CHAPTER 03
Feyic Vault, Astraena
Four hours prior to midnight one fortnight and three days after August's first full moon

The P.A.R.T.Y. sits around a crackling fire in what was once a stable (or an animal prison, depending on who you ask).

Keef and Lyriel are off to one side, discussing morality and similar topics, while the rest have their attention fixed on Cassandra, their prisoner.

She has spoken for nearly an hour, telling the tale of a young girl who possessed an affinity with woodland creatures, and eventually set off into the wilds to seek her fortune among them.  Over time, she learned that Nature would heed her call, as would many animals.

One day, perhaps a decade ago, she stumbled upon a gate of twisted briers and brambles in which a squirrel had become entangled.  She freed the creature, and it transformed into a man she would come to know as the Master.  With her help, they were able to unlock the gate and venture within.

This was how the Master and Cassie came to discover the Feyic Vault, and how they came to live above it.

Eventually the pair discovered Veilspire's tomb, but the Master forbid her from disturbing anything within it or near it out of respect for the deceased.  As the days passed, the Master worked on ways to get through the trials, while Cassie spent her time collecting animals to help them.

At night, both were visited in dreams by someone who claimed to be Veilspire himself.  It was here that they learned how to transform forests into swampland, albeit at a painfully slow rate.

One day, Cassie awakened to find that Nature would no longer heed her call.  She ran to the Master in tears, but he seemed to be expecting them.

"I was visited in a dream last night," Master told her.  "He predicted this might happen, and showed me the cure in a vision."

The Master then took her to a hidden room, in which they found an iron choker engraved with vines laying in the middle of the floor.  As soon as Cassie put it on, the clasp molded itself back into the metal, and her connection with Nature was restored.  She's worn it ever since.

Over time they recruited more to their cause, but the only one who stuck around for any length of time was Binkles.  He seemed to thrive on their mission, and was positively gleeful about receiving dreams from the great Veilspire -- though he grew fearful of incurring the wrath of Wildheart in the process.

This fear grew so strong that Binkles asked the Master to brew a potion for him that would remove his ability to be afraid.  The Master complied, but something went wrong -- Binkles lost the ability to feel most emotions, and it ultimately drove him mad.

The Master took this failure personally, and devoted himself more feverishly to accessing the vault, which his dreams suggested held the cure along with countless other treasures.

"That was three years ago," she concludes, "and still we remain unable to penetrate the Vault's defenses.  On the plus side, the swampification of the forest around this area continues to go well.  Veilspire says it would go faster with more druids, but very few are willing to see the truth."

[Crossroads]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:46, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

And did you stop, at any point in time, to consider that following the visions of a deceased and corrupt druid who could speak to you from beyond the grave would somehow have deleterious consequences and that said evil druid may not have altruistic reasons for aiding you in this quest?

I'm just saying, because from where I'm sitting, you sound like a really high priced pawn in a game of some pretty ancient and magical chess.

Me? I prefer being a knight. Unconventional movement and complex strategy required. An apt metaphor for any interaction involving Sir Giles Thistleworth.

Zuriel listens to her story attentively. "Do you ever miss it?" he asks during a pause in her story. She looks at him quizzically. "A true connection to nature, I mean. Your current powers are derived artificially from that necklace. Do you ever miss your true connection with the land and with animals?"

And yet Chomper is still your trusted companion.  Surely this means that you have some innate connection to nature remaining?
This message was last edited by the player at 16:54, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

So what drove you was a personal connection then?  You had your affinity with animals, and you met someone else like you.  When the choker meant that you could have both this mentor and your previous affinity, why wouldn't you take it?

And faithful Chomper has stayed by your side.  You could have that connection again, a real connection, not something fashioned from a magical device.

Boreas' gem starts to glow softly.

Somehow... I just know you could.

He addresses Chomper:

And you, my friend.  What's your story?  How long have you known Cassie, and what can you tell me of your past?

***

Before everyone beds down, Boreas will lay caltrops at the entrances to the area.  If there is no discernible entrance on the far side, he will spread them across the pathway farther down.  Then, he will warn everyone, including the animals, not to tread in those areas.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:16, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 5):

Before bedding down, Chubbs will inspect the caltrops and give them his general disapproving glare.

In reply to Keef (msg # 6):
[ooc: continuing from earlier]

Lyriel laughs at Keef's description of tea, I suppose tea is an acquired taste. She grins, but then her face becomes more thoughtful at his questions.

I am a priestess Keef, and as a member of the flock of Tassada I would never dream of using evil to accomplish good, because as with all things evil there is a price to pay, and you never know what that price could be. You see Keef, the mark of a true hero is one who can press on and do the right thing even if you are presented with an easier option of questionable morals. Using evil to make people happy might work in the short term, but in the long run there are even greater consequences, and you could end up doing far more harm than good. She pats him on the knee, That is why it is always best to leave evil out of the equation, even if you have to go about things the hard way.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:33, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 7):

"I hardly remember doing things any other way at this point," she says, frowning slightly.  "It doesn't feel any different, far as I can tell.  So no, I don't think it's fair to say I miss it.  Veilspire provided me with the means of salvation after being affected by whatever feyic devilry inhibited my powers from manifesting normally, but I will not allow that to interfere with our work.  Though sometimes I do wish I could remove the thing, if only to make bathing easier."

She smiles again as Chomper perks up and yips a few choice noises.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "Met Cassie after she already had the collar; can't say what happened before that.  I don't get bad dreams though.  Mostly just eat and sleep and nip at the other animals that need to be shown who's in charge."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:57, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

Zuriel relinquishes his gaze, disappointed.

There has got to be a better way. I know there is good in her yet. Let's take a different tack.

Aloud, he says "I keep hearing about this Wildheart. Who is he, and why do you fear him so much?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 9):

"They really don't teach you anything but righteous indignation in Hae'driel, do they?"

Cassandra smirks, and even Chomper seems to laugh a little.

"Wildheart battled Veilspire a century or so ago, defeated him, and went on to became a rather well-known, if reclusive, hero of sorts.  Some accounts claim he was a mercenary, instead.  Either way, when it become known to him that Veilspire's spirit survived, after a fashion, it's said that he became obsessed with eradicating his previous enemy once and for all.  If you believe in ghost stories, there are plenty that claim Wildheart's furious soul still wanders the woodlands seeking Veilspire's annihilation."

She shakes her head in wonder.

"I've never bought a word of it, but those stories scared Binkles half to death."

Zuriel and Boreas exchange a look.

Well, we have a way to verify whether or not Wildheart exists. It might be a good idea to learn more if we can.

"Interesting. Tell me more about this Master. Was he a Druid too? He must have been quite the charismatic leader to turn you from your original purpose to what you are now."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 11):

"The Master was more of an herbalist and alchemist than anything, though he did have a few interesting spells up his sleeve.  The barrier was one of them.  I don't know whether he was a druid in the traditional sense of the word or not -- nor does it much matter.  He was certainly devoted to the circle's cause, one way or another."

Her eyes fall at this.

"A great man, the Master was.  It's a pity that he died so suddenly."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 11):

Keef leans forward and half-shouts across the fire, It was a great battle, a GREAT battle, I know all about it!

When nobody looks terribly interested in another of Keef's physical renditions, he turns to Lyriel.

So... evil is evil... Keef turns that over in his head a few times.  Evil tools should be put to fire and evil men to grave? Like Rufus the Pure told Sir Greenheart?
This message was last edited by the player at 20:08, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

Boreas, listening to Cassie and Zuriel, is startled by Keef's outburst.  He turns to the boy.

Well, generally yes.  But that's difficult to say.  Sometimes good things can be used to do evil and evil to do good.  Nonetheless, trying to put an evil thing to good use results in corruption more often than not.  I recall a tale of a magical ring of great power... but the details are foggy.

Still, especially in the case of evil men and women, it is important to remember the possibility of redemption.

But it has been a long day.  We should get some rest to prepare ourselves for tomorrow, which promises to be just as long.  We will need to set watch, and Zuriel, you should ask your book something.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:22, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

Zuriel turns his attention to Keef. "Actually Keef, I would like to hear more about this battle. It seems particularly relevant. What do you know of the Defilers and Wildheart? That name has been coming up an awful lot lately. The elven spirits mentioned it at the windy bridge. I'd like to learn more. And as for evil artifacts, and evil men, don't rush to send any to an early grave. Both items and people can be redeemed for good. Sometimes, the greatest allies to the forces of good are former enemies who change their ways."

Zuriel turns to regard Cassie meaningfully at that last sentence.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:29, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

Boreas scratches his beard.  Yes, Keef.  That could be good to know, and interesting too.  Could you elaborate?

Essentially Keef, it is best to leave evil tools alone. But Zuriel does make a good point that sometimes evil people can become good again, so it is good to at least try if you have the opportunity. She looks in the direction of Cassie. At any rate, yes let us hear your story Keef.

Thank you for at least telling us what you know, Cassie.  I think that under different circumstances, we could have been friends.  That might still be the case, but I'm not so quick to believe in the power of redemption as those two Maeve says, jerking a thumb at the devotees of Tassada. A lack of religion breeds cynicism, I suppose.

She settles down to hear what Keef has to say.

The paladin nods in agreement. "That is a good point of clarification, Lyriel. Cleansing and repurposing evil tools is tricky work, and dangerous even when handled by expert artificers. And until such a tool is cleansed, using it almost always ends in tragedy. But please continue, I'm very interested in what you have to say."

In reply to Maeve (msg # 18):

Keef looks around, at first confused as to why everyone is looking at him.  He then launches into his story with his whole body:

Well, Veilspire... totally evil, the biggest, blackest meanest of them all.  He had his defilers, like-minded men and others who followed him seeking to reshape the forests.  It was hard, you know?  Remaking things.  But he was so evil, so dedicated, nothing would stop him, see?  First he used trees and animals, but then when that didn't work he started to use people!Keef wiggles his fingers to indicate menace.  He begins to pace as he talks, to alternate between raised and lowered voice and to act out each part of the story.

People didn't want to be part of his experiments, so Veilspire had his minions snatch people from the paths and farms and stuff; mostly at night, mostly... the people were too scared to go after him... that is until Wildheart.... I guess Sir Greenheart wasnt' around... so Wildheart was brave and he lead his troops into the darkest forests.  He had many heroes with him, and Veilspire had many huge terrible minions, so when they met up the battle was epic!

Keef grabs up his waster and dances about, feigning battle.

The battle was long and hard, many were killed.  Veilspire fought with unending determination and spite, Wildheart with equal distain and dedication.  Monsters Veilspire sent, traps and magical tricks.  Wildheart called on the power of the very forest!  Swords, fire, countless charges, redoublements and counters... swordfights by moonlight, duels at dawn.... finally all were wounded, fled or dead save Wildheart and Veilspire.  They were evenly matched, and neither could hold up his weapon.  Veilspire lied and said that it was HE who was in the right, that it wasn't he who'd killed Wildheart's son, but Wildheart himself through his own hubris.  Well, that hurt Wildheart more than anything else, and while he paused Veilspire stabbed him with a posoned dagger, up under the armor so nobody could see.  Wildheart was so angry he cut down Veilspire and a whole copse of evil trees in one swing.

Keef pauses, panting.

...and as Veilspire fell and choked on his own blood, he said 'Wildheart, we are brothers'.... not literally, just figuratively you see... but though he had won that made Wildheart think.  He left the forest and the people cheered because the woods were safe again, right?  But Wildheart never forgot what it had cost him.

Keef collapses beside the fire.  He draws his knees up before him.

The staff is evil... I can tell... but I think it might be able to do some good... at least I hope we can...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:35, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

In reply to Keef (msg # 20):

Then I can't see how this could possibly make things worse.

Sir Giles reaches over and places the crown of thorns upon Keef's brow.

When you're playing hero Keef, always look the part.

Sir Giles musses the boy's hair, pauses, and allows an unusually solemn look to paint itself on his face.

Heroism, like beauty, is regretably in the eye of the beholder, and one day, one man's hero, is another man's enemy, and then, the first man's enemy too.

The problem with basing on your life on the axioms required of faiths such as those held by Lyriel and Zuriel, or even Boreas, is that axioms and faith are absolutes. They require your full and unwavering belief.

As you adventure and you live your life, and life lives back at you, things will happen along the way. Some magical and amazing, some terrifying and unforgivable. And they will ALL happen.

Being a hero, living your life, is about adapting to the world around you and living your life in a way that makes you happy. Having faith, to be good in the allegorical sense, is required to live your life as Lyriel and I suppose Zuriel does.

Having a divine presence who told Sir Giles how to live his life was never in the cards for Sir Giles.

So I took up heroism. And I started by doing good. I helped people. I was the person of legend. I really did [insert heroic deed here] and I almost died performing [equally amazing and 100% true heroic deed here]. But being a hero, being GOOD, is dangerous! Evil people HATE when you try to foil their plans, and the people, after a while, take you for granted.

They expect you to save them, like it's your job. Your job somehow became risking your life for a bunch of peasants who are too afraid to do anything themselves. Now you have to save them because they don't know how to take care of themselves!

You've made them weak in your altruistic righteousness.

Formulate your own conclusions about how you will live your life as you will Keef, but if you take nothing away from your time with Sir Giles Thistleworth, hero of legend, take away this:

No good deed goes unpunished, and to all debts their are collectors.

Sir Giles sighs.

Men begin so many acts of their lives with noble intentions- Few finish with them.

A sober Sir Giles wanders off with Shep a distance from the group, a dramatic ending to a surprising soliloquy from the oft quick worded and sarcastic hero.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:57, Tue 15 Oct 2013.

Zuriel arches an eyebrow at Giles' introspection. "That poor man. I wonder what happened to him to make him so jaded. The thing is Keef, you can't confuse being a 'hero' in Giles' sense of the word with doing what is right. If the good deeds you accomplish are done simply for the sake of fame or accolades, then it isn't heroism at all. True heroism is living your life in such a way that you put others before yourself and risk yourself for their behalf, regardless of who is there to see it, for no other reason than it is right."

Zuriel sighs. "And contrary to what Giles seems to think, the definition of "right" comes from within, not without. Axioms and faith are not chains that bind you, they are guiding lights to help you determine for yourself what is truly good and right. The bottom line is only *you* can decide what is good and right. Although it never hurts to look to others for guidance from time to time. Anyhow, thank you for your story Keef. I quite enjoyed hearing it.

[OOC: After we are done telling tales, I recommend we set watch and get some sleep. I propose myself for first watch, Maeve and Lyriel for second, and Boreas for third, with Keef sleeping or joining whomever he wishes. Also, Cassie should be gagged overnight.]
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Lyriel watches in horror as Giles places the crown on Keef's head, clenching her fists she tries to quickly regain her composure. Keef following up on our discussion earlier about evil things, Zuriel has said that the crown Giles just put on your head is infact evil; I think perhaps it is best if you were to remove it. There is no telling what evil it could do.

All of this philosophy is well and good, but even heroes need to sleep.  I propose that's what we do now. It's been a long and interesting day.

[OOC: Watch order is fine, but Maeve & Lyriel should share first watch just because that's our 'usual' order in so much as one exists and I see no need to muddle it up]

In reply to Maeve (msg # 24):

Keef makes as if to remove the crown but hesitates.

I don't think it comes off...I'll try to figure that out...I think you've all given me a lot to think about.  Being a hero isn't simple.

Keef, clearly psychologocally drained, collapses in a heap on his bag and is soon snoring soundly.

Chubbs snoozes nearby, waking up intermittently to support each watch.

Keef, you've got a gift for storytelling!  I never would've known.  I must confess I was caught up for a moment there.  But Zuriel and Lyriel are right.  Best not mess with more evil things than we need to.  Please, place the crown aside.  If we are to use it, let another of us share the burden of all these evil tools.

I have to say, though, that you're wrong about the staff.  It will never do good.  But you might do some good, with or without it.

[OOC]Watch order as suggested by Maeve fine by me.[/OOC]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 26):

Zuriel nods and makes his bedding ready for sleep.

(OOC: Standard watch order is fine)

Zuriel finishes writing in his book at the beginning of his watch. He waits briefly for the ink to dry before closing the book and stowing it in his pack as the kettle begins to steam. He pours himself a cup of tea, pausing when he notices Cassandra looking at him with her startlingly blue eyes, Chomper curled up on her lap and coming as close to purring as a wolverine can. He gets out a second cup and pours a measure of tea into it as well before settling down next to her. He puts the tea in her bound hands, and undoes the gag so it hangs around her neck like a neckerchief.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a quiet tone.

"Bound, as a prisoner?" she replies softly.  "Could you?"

Zuriel smiles wistfully. "No, I suppose not. Though you do have the benefit of this one." He gestures at Chomper. "He looks rather cuddly."

Zuriel sighs. "I will admit, you are something of an enigma to me. At the temple, they teach us that evil is to be fought under all circumstances and given quarter in none. I took that lesson with a heaping spoonful of salt. The real world has proven much more complex. Still, even with that in mind you are not at all what I expected."

The paladin turns to regard her fully after a sip of tea. "I've fought and killed evil men and women before. Bandits, mostly. People who took what they wanted and didn't care the harm they caused others. Those types of people are easy to understand, and easy to put down. You, you're different. You have a darkness in you, yet you genuinely care for Chomper, and your dedication to your cause does not seem to be about personal gain or enrichment."

Zuriel's brow furrows. "Whatever happened in your life to set you down your path, I think..." he continues carefully, "...that there is goodness in you still. That's why I couldn't strike you down. That's why when "Sir" Giles took it upon himself to execute you, I refused to let you pass."

"I'll admit I was as surprised to find myself alive as I was to find an arrow lodged in my neck," Cassie repiles evenly.  "I'm sure there is good in me - it has never left!  The work I do is vital, and the obstacles vast. But just because something may not be achievable doesn't mean it shouldn't be attempted."

She smiles at Chomper as he kicks his legs in his sleep, perhaps dreaming of some grand chase.

"But I have a bit of a dilemma now," she continues sadly.  "As the last of the circle, I'm expected to recruit. To do otherwise would incur Veilspire's wrath.  But once we unlock the secrets of the Vault, there will be no reason to remain here. Our work will go on without us here. A new hub will be needed, and I do not know half of what the Master did to make this operation so successful."

She sighs glumly.  "Perhaps Veilspire will tell me what to do next once I sleep."

"Tell me about Veilspire and the Master, and your service to them. I know the how, but I don't know the why. Why is it you feel that returning nature to its original state is worth the untold death and destruction it would cause? What is it that convinced you to take up Veilspire's work?"

"The world needs to be the way it was intended to be. No matter how much life the forest now holds, it is not the right kind of life.  Does the Flame not make the same argument about Lo'driel? Would you and your peers not jump at the chance to raze it to the ground, expunge its people, and repopulate it 'properly'?"

Cassie shrugs again.

"I took up Veilspire's cause because it makes sense. Because Nature should not exist in orderly rows of trees planted by the logging companies, but everywhere and all around us.  This land was marshland once, and gods willing, it will become such once more."

Zuriel nods.

"You make a valid point about Lo'driel. However, please keep in mind that the philosophy of the ends justifying the means can be intoxicating. If you focus on attaining a given goal at any costs, you may find yourself turning into somebody you're not in your zeal to realize that goal. For example, Lo'driel is illegally inhabited. But it is nonetheless inhabited, including by women and children. If the Flame were to tomorrow raze the city to the ground, kill most of the population, and turn the rest out into the countryside destitute, they would be worse than the Drynnian squatters they claim superiority over. The end might be just, but the means so abominable that it would forever tarnish everything the Flame stands for. Better, I think, to strive for a goal the right way than to focus on accomplishing it at the cost of who you are, and who you're meant to be. Even if it means ultimately failing."

Zuriel sighs. "It's as I told Keef earlier tonight. Ultimately, each person must decide what is right for his or herself. Seeking guidance from others is good and wise, but don't let anybody tell you what to believe. Not me, not Giles, not the Master, not Veilspire. You. Cassandra. You make that choice."

He finishes pointing a finger at her. She turns to look at him and her necklace glints in the firelight. Zuriel frowns.

"And make sure that when you make that decision, it truly is your own. I worry about Keef and the Everstaff. It has a control over him I find concerning. He is not himself, and he's had the staff less than a day. I would wager a small fortune that your necklace is having a similar effect on you."

He smiles. "I think in your heart you know what is right. And if you are ever in doubt, strive to be the person Chomper thinks you are."

"You're right in one sense, Flamebringer: we must all decide what is right.  We all have truths, though yours are not the same as mine.  Does that make one more correct than the other?"

Her eyelids droop, and she catches herself from slouching.

"It seems sleep is threatening to find me at last.  Perhaps we can continue this conversation another time."

Zuriel nods and gently redoes the gag. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. I wish that we had met under different circumstances. Sleep well, or at least as well as can be expected." He contemplates for a moment, then extends his glowing palm.

[Lay on Hands: 3]

"Hopefully that will provide some comfort."

Zuriel stands up and walks to the other side of the fire as Cassie's eyes grow heavy. He sits down and settles in for the rest of his watch. Light from the dying embers of the fire flickers in his amber eyes as he stares off into the gloom, lost in his thoughts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:58, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 27):

The night passes rather uneventfully for those on guard duty, though Shep does snore a bit in his sleep.  Those asleep, however, experience the strangest dreams:

[Private to Maeve: You dream that you are a turtle, so burdened by your heavy, iron shell that you can barely move.  A shadow passes over you -- an bird of prey? -- and you struggle to outrun it, despite knowing it to be impossible.]

[Private to Boreas Highwind: An strange, misshapen creature lurks in the shadows.  It seems to be missing a good number of organs and limbs, but a single emerald eye pieces the darkness as you observe it.  Pain and anguish fill your mind as it warbles a mournful series of words you cannot comprehend, and iron bars appear to obstruct your vision of it.  Try though you might, the bars will not bend.]

[Private to Giles Thistleworth: A half-starved, mangy wolfhound sits beneath a dying willow tree set upon a small hill by a stream.  A small pile of stones has been heaped next to a recent grave that lays nearby, still fresh with piled soil. Laid upon this grave is an item you recognize: your trusty bow, stuck upright into the sod like a stake.  If not for the familiar name etched on the bow itself, there would be nothing at all to mark the owner of this sad, neglected tomb.]

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: A malnourished, tattered man you recognize to be yourself is bound in the public stockade just beyond the Temple of Tassada in Hae'driel.  Stripped of all dignity save a torn pair of breeches, your head and wrists hang limply in shame.  Children and adults alike take great pains to steer clear of you, many jeering and throwing pebbles or rotten vegetables.  A delegation of paladins passes by, en route to the temple, led by your father -- who doesn't bother to glance in your direction.  From the shadows of the Temple's foyer, a tearful Lyriel averts her eyes and slips away.]

[Private to Keef: You are standing before the Empress's throne in the Grand Hall of Tris, being presented with the Empire's highest honor.  Heralds and bards take turns relating tales of your daring deeds to all gathered, to much hooting and hollering and general applause.  Chubbs stands by your side, wearing his little paper hat and a small medal that was fashioned for him in recognition of his role in all of this.  You yourself are wearing a set of glittering, bejeweled armor, with the Everstaff strapped across your back and the crown of thorns upon your brow.  At the apex of the applause, the Empress removes her diadem and offers it to you.  Accepting this gift, you turn to face your adoring public, and take your seat upon the throne.]

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: You see the pale figure of your brother walking toward you, hands outstretched.  As you run to greet him, a crossbow bolt pierces him from behind, its source unseen.  A second and then a third rip through his body, and his eyes widen in surprise as he falls to the ground.  A shadowy crossbowman approaches the fallen paladin, and though little can be made out about his features, one part of his wardrobe stands out, even in your blurry sight: an emerald green tabbard.]

The third watch now completed, the P.A.R.T.Y. awakens to greet the unseen dawn feeling refreshed -- and more than a little perturbed at the visions that haunted their sleeping hours.

[Crossroads]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:41, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Maeve looks suspiciously at the bag of tea leaves from which they brewed the previous night's delicious beverages.

I am never drinking this right before bed ever again.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 29):

I had no tea and was greeted by a sadly familiar dream, which based on your tone and response, was at least similar in nature to your own.

Should we really be surprised that fitful sleep finds us as we wander deeper into the treasures of an evil tomb so artfully sealed?

I suppose not.  Drat!  I had really hoped that it was the tea.  I don't like the idea of this place working its way into my head.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:34, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Lyriel wakes with a start tears forming in her eyes, she quickly brushes them away, still feeling the old familiar ache in her heart.

That was simply the most horrid dream I have ever had; I think it has something to do with this place we're in. The quicker we get this over with the better.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:56, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 32):

Showing no signs of the solemn introspection which marked your last interaction with Giles:

A phrase I'm somewhat unaccustomed to hearing from a lady such as yourself, but I agree with the sentiment. Are we all sufficiently refreshed to press on?

Zuriel shakes his head as if to clear away dark thoughts, rubbing his wrists absently and scowling at Giles' crass turn of phrase. "Agreed, this place seeps into my marrow. We should be underway. First though, I'd like to identify some of our magical items, if Master Keef is willing and able?"

The paladin opens his book while waiting for a very groggy Keef to rouse himself. He reads the page, and then walks over to show it to Boreas.

[Private to Boreas Highwind:

That living being breathes no more / broken, buried by the shore
Of Glen'dinel, the wild stream / which feeds the woodlands' elven king
Solace, seeker, worry not / his spirit thrives, though body rots
And living thoughts he yet retains / your goal lies East, toward his remains]

As Boreas reads, Zuriel takes notes on a scrap of parchment.

"As far as pressing onward, I feel that doing so in the present circumstances would be unwise. Cassie is still grievously wounded, and would be unlikely to survive the trials of the vault were we to explore immediately. Instead, I propose we take a brief detour. The Book of Answers has given us the location of somebody who knows more of Veilspire, and presumably this place. With that wisdom, we can make a better decision on what to ultimately do with Cassie, how to handle the Everstaff situation, and hopefully the nature of the wards in place in the vault. Furthermore, it allows us additional opportunities to magically identify our items, again provided that Keef is able and willing. Does anybody know how far the stream of Glen'dinnel is from here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:36, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Boreas awakens, rubbing his eye.

Probably time to move on then.  Zuriel, what did the book say?

Shaking his head to clear it of whatever was bothering him, Boreas stands up and begins gathering his caltrops.

That seems like a wise plan Zuriel. I for one would feel a thousand times better were we more prepared.

Lyriel begins gathering her belongings and waits to see what the others have to say.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 36):

But the barrier into the vault has been lowered? What is to stop another band of brigands or adventurers from coming in and removing its contents, or being grievously injured by a trial they would otherwise not have been able to access? Surely if we could figure out how to remove their defenses, why could another not as well?

While I see the wisdom in seeking additional information, and in recollection of the lackluster response my previous attempt to leave Cassandra to her fate invoked, it seems ill-conceived to abandon our quest here in deference to a lack of knowledge and in fear of prisoner safety and integrity.

One learns more by continuing the adventure, not by stopping to reconcile with the librarians.

I've known some very wise librarians in my time.  Do not underestimate the librarians.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 38):

I would never dream of it. Without librarians, who would curate and disseminate my tales to the eager masses? Just some half cocked bard in a bar? Please.

The library is my first stop in every town. The maiden crone running the establishment. Long in years but still wet behind the ears from so much life unlived in service of the public good and society's preconceived obligations of decency. A brief introduction. A harrowing presentation of arms. A charming offer to dinner. A high level overview of my current exploits. Discussion of said librarian's occasionally memorable but often poorly written private erotica. Sir Giles insertion (Ba-Zing) into said erotica.

And then boom, another librarian in another town making sure children hear tales of Sir Giles as a pretense for her to fantasize about the one magical night we spent together, which I view more as a discretionary business transaction.

..Oh. Right. You were just being sarcastic and weren't looking for an actual follow up.

Sir Giles shrugs his shoulders.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:24, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 37):

No one's abandoning anything, Giles.  This vault has been undisturbed for centuries, despite the attempts of a master magician that eventually cost him his life.  I am not concerned about some random group of brigands breaking down its defenses.

We have so many additional concerns right now, and we could use the counsel of those older and wiser than us.

"Besides, this place is pretty well hidden and defended even without the barrier. We had a hard enough time getting in. I don't see anybody lining up outside to take a shot at it themselves.

We can set a couple of traps to discourage them, too.  Not that they would be any more deadly than what lies ahead, I'm sure.

Regardless, we should be moving on.  We've tarried too long already.

"Sure. Though I hope of the non-lethal variety. Keef, are you ready to venture forth? As for you, Giles, I would advise against underestimating the ferocity of the librarian. Anybody who has spoken a shade too loudly the the Great Library of Hae'driel knows what it is to incite the wrath of the archivists, which is a terrible and frightening thing to behold."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:58, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

As I recall, not all librarians in Gaelia were 'maiden crones,' as you put it.  Many were quite attractive, in addition to of course possessing the very highest intelligence and quality of character.

The cats though.  So very, very many cats. . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 18:04, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 44):

Cassie fidgets as Chomper playfully runs circles around her legs, a bundle of energy amid the otherwise drowsy crowd.

Interesting that they're waiting on the boy to cast his vote, though he does possess the Everstaff, she muses to herself. And they came all this way, only to turn back without accessing the Vault?  Madness...

In reply to DM (msg # 45):

Keef rolls out of bed groggy and moves about his morning routine phlegmatically.

After staring at his books for some time and gazing wistfully at his weapons without touching them, he stands up and looks around.  He watches each of his PARTY members moving about, talking and preparing to leave.  Slowly his expression changes and he seems to make up his mind.

Violently, Keef yanks the crown off of his head.  This he shoves into the bottom of his bag.  He then wraps the Everstaff in a blanket and lashes that to the side of his pack.

He then scoops up Chubbs and plops himself down indian-style with all of his books opened, lost in study.

Finally he snaps them shut and shoves them into his bag as well.

I think I figured it out... it's old magic... my master said it was practical though and you thought it was a good idea.  What of our treasures do you want me to look at?

In reply to Maeve (msg # 44):

Intelligence and Quality of character are not "Desired traits" on the Sir Giles spectrum of bardic perpetuation.

..I do carry some light training materials if you're interested in hearing more?

"I had heard that in Gaelia cats were at least at one time worshipped as gods, and many statues and icons were erected in their honor, often annotated with pithy witticisms and proverbs. Is there any truth to these tales?"

Turning to Keef, a look of relief comes over him as he sees the boy stow the crown and staff. Zuriel smiles. "Well, I think we all have treasures we'd like to see analyzed. I for one, would like to know what blessing the orb bestowed on my sword, though others may think something else a higher priority? How many items do you think you could examine?"

[Private to Keef: Zuriel leans in as he shows you the gilded blade. In a quiet voice he says "I'm glad you decided to put away the staff Keef. It speaks volumes to your strength of character. I am proud to call you comrade. For the next stage of our adventure, what would you say to meeting the true Wildheart?" Zuriel smiles, winks conspiratorially, and puts a finger to his mouth to indicate the need to keep the exact nature of their plans from Cassie.]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:46, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 48):

If we're magically identifying items, the orb we lifted from Mi'driel is probably the most essential.  It can change the course of a battle in a moment.  After that, probably the sword.

We shouldn't tarry much longer after that, however.  We want to get back as quickly as possible.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 48):

That's a common misconception.  The statues you speak of do exist, but we never worshiped them.  The symbol of the Sultan is a cheetah--that's a type of spotted cat that can run at great speed--and so some architect or other in the far off past sought to ingratiate himself with the royal family by constructing several of those icons that you mention.

Maeve makes a face.

Unfortunately, he was a horrific speller.  You can see a number of his mistakes carved on various cat statues around the capital city.  Some people find them exceedingly amusing.  Me, I've never seen the appeal.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 49):

"I'd never even heard a person use the word tarry in context until this morning, and here Boreas has done it twice in under a minute. My word is this ever an expanding collection of erudite adventurers!"

Indubitably! Boreas replies.

"Fascinating about the cat iconography, Maeve. I should like to see them someday. Perhaps while patronizing Kah'Rehbou's renown coffee and tea emporium. As for our items, I agree the orb is probably most important, and then my sword if you have the magic remaining."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 53):

Lyriel looks relieved to see that Keef had removed the crown and was no longer holding the staff.

Smiling she turns to the group, perhaps it would be wise to choose one or two objects a day for young master Keef to identify for us, we could rank them from most important to least important.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 54):

Cassandra remains quiet throughout the conversation, standing off to one side and periodically closing her eyes for extended periods of time.  She looks a little healthier than you'd expect for someone who was beaten to death and barely revived not 12 hours earlier.

Chomper continues to scamper around the area, nipping at Shep and sniffing Chubbs alternately out of what appears to be boredom.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:07, Wed 16 Oct 2013.

Zuriel sorts through his satchel and the spare bags the party keeps for general purpose items.

"I can only find 70 gold pieces here. Looks like we'll have to hold off on the identification today, Keef. If I understand correctly the ritual requires at least 100 pieces to work properly." Zuriel frowns. "I guess that means we should be getting a move on. I'd prepare something other than identify then, Keef. I'm sure that spell will come in handy very soon, though."


[OOC: It would seem that we don't have the reagents to identify anything. Zuriel is ready to move on in search of the entity that can help them.]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 56):

Keef looks in much better spirits after your kind words.  Though he does look slightly pallid, it does not dampen his energy.

I have some gold, sir Keef rummages around in his bag and come up with 30 gold.

"Oh, that is helpful! And no need to call me 'sir,' Keef. We're all in this together. If that doesn't eliminate the need for titles, I don't know what does." He takes out the rest of the gold from the party satchel. "Unless there are any objections, I say we get the iron orb analyzed. Boreas?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 58):

Maeve tosses 22 gp from her own bag into the party's communal satchel.

No sense in leaving us totally penniless once we're done.

Sounds good to me.  I've got 10 gold to spare, as well.  We should be able to put this thing to good use.  Keef, let's see what your magic tells us, then let's move on.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 60):

Keef collects the requesite 100gp from Zuriel and his own bag.

He then accepts the metal sphere from Boreas and places both on the ground.

Keef then strips down to nothing but his boots, gloves and smallclothes, which he insists is Absolutely necessarily... it's in the books

Keef stacks the coins all around the sphere and moves them to and fro with small clinking sounds.  He hums a tune under his breath, you can make out the words "Who are you?  Who who?...who who?" but nothing more.

As he chants the coins begin to glow.  Finally there is a flash of red light and the coins are gone.

Keef then quickly move on to the sword and repeats the process, though it does take him longer to set up due to being distracted by the way the sword catches the light and cuts the air.

At last Keef stands up.  Done
This message was last edited by the player at 16:36, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

Boreas retrieves the orb, genuinely impressed by the depth of information Keef provided.

That knowledge may save our lives one day.  Thank you, Keef.  Well done.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:23, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

"Would anybody object to Keef taking a look at this sword?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:23, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 63):

The P.A.R.T.Y., having identified as many items as they could afford, makes its way back to the Vault's entrance and climbs the ladder back to the bedroom in which their battle with Cassandra took place.

Upon reaching the doorway that leads out of the bedroom and toward the hallway near the kitchen and the gardens, Cassie stops walking and barks some angry words that are muffled by her gag.

Chomper leaps onto the bed and stands protectively over the body that still lies there, growling softly at anyone who approaches.

[Private to Boreas Highwind:
"We are not leaving the Master's body like this."]

In reply to DM (msg # 64):

Keef hastily redresses and hops to, Chubbs riding at the top of his pack for the time being.

Zuriel walks over to Cassie and undoes her gag warily, making sure her hands are still bound. "What is it, Cassie?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 66):

"We. Are. Not. Leaving. The. Master's. Body. There."

Her pretty blue eyes dance with dangerous defiance.

"Have you no respect for the dead?  Bad enough you won't let me restore him and left him to rot here all night."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:32, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

"That seems fair. Lyriel and I would be happy to provide a proper burial for him."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 68):

"His life need not be over," she pleads.  "I can restore him, if you'd just let me.  Let him answer your questions and grant the insight you seek, and we'd have no need to chase blindly through the woodlands in search of some knowledgeable hermit."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:44, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

I cannot let you raise him, but I see no reason he couldn't have a proper burial.  We can do that much, at least.

Zuriel frowns and looks to his fellow party members. "To be honest, I think we need the other side of this story before we go reincarnating somebody who calls himself 'The Master.' Chosen titles say a lot about a person, and his gives me much more pause than a more benevolent-sounding name, like 'The Doctor,' for example. At any rate, let us bury him with whatever rites you see fit short of resurrecting him. Then we go to learn more. If it would then make sense to reincarnate the Master, there will still be the opportunity to do so, but I make no promises. I'm sorry, but given the circumstances that's the most I can agree to for now, Cassie."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 71):

Cassie frowns for a moment, then nods.

"Very well.  The only place soft enough to bury him down here is my garden.  Otherwise, we'll have to take him topside.  The appropriate burial rites only take about an hour."

Zuriel's face softens somewhat and he responds more gently. "I don't mind carrying him topside, Cassie. Which would he have preferred?"

Clearly this man meant a great deal to her. Perhaps by putting him at rest she can begin thinking towards her future with more clarity. Though I fear her mind will not truly be her own until the shade of Veilspire is extinguished forever."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 73):

"I think... he would have preferred to be topside, with the others."

"Very well then." Zuriel gently redoes Cassie's gag, and gathers up the body of the Master in his arms. Then he makes to heady back to the surface.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 75):

You don't get very far before Cassie stops again, then walks into her garden.  Her vision wavers between the rotting carcass of the creature you slew yesterday and the petrified statue that once was Binkles.

A tear begins to form in her eyes, but she shakes her head violently before it can fall to her cheeks.

Chomper sniffs at the statue, licks it experimentally, wrinkles his nose, and looks back at Cassie sadly.

The druid's gaze hardens as she returns to the passage, looking at no one.  Chomper follows slowly behind her, glancing over his shoulder at the statue as they go.

***

It takes a little effort to coordinate the ropes and animals, but you eventually find yourselves once again topside in the clearing.  The charred gate remains dead and lifeless next to the unmoving vine you defeated earlier.  The stump itself is surrounded by a semicircle of six withered saplings, and the stone raven clutching the far side of the stump's opening appears as it did before.

Cassie waits patiently for the P.A.R.T.Y. to settle itself, and for her gag to be removed.

"I'm sorry about Binkles, Cassie," says Zuriel quietly as he undoes her gag, "Petrification is a fate nobody deserves. Perhaps once this is all over we can look to cure him. Both his current state and his madness. Binkles needs help, not an executioner."

Everything I'm taught says these people deserve only punishment. But I can't help but feel pity for their situation. Could they truly be reformed? Or is the Church right, and the only solution to evil is purification by fire and the sword?

You have my sympathy as well, for Binkles.  Perhaps we will be able to restore him, though.  There are ways.

We're going to let you perform your burial rites, but be warned.  We are watching you.  Your hands will need to remain bound to prevent any magical trickery.  I am sorry.  If you attempt to cast any spell, we will strike you down.  We are keenly aware that your reincarnation ritual also takes one hour.

That being said, I will gladly assist you in whatever tasks you need that your bound hands prevent you from performing.  You may begin the ritual when you are ready.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:00, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 76):

"Can we be clear that the funerary rights Cassie is asking us to perform won't somehow magically endow or otherwise stimulate said master? If we're burying him among the 'others', do we truly have an understanding of what that may mean?

Please pardon my ignorance, but this woman is an evil druid. What stops her from turning into a bird or something and just flying away, and returning to the burial ground in days or weeks to perform her dark ritual? Surely you won't desecrate the body or move the corpse to fool her.

As someone who takes advantage of your trust on a day to day basis, I see your trust being taken advantage of..

Your point is valid, Giles.  That's why we have the ground rules in place.  Any attempt to cast any spell will result in immediate retribution, regardless of what the spell is.

Cassie, I hope that you will uphold what trust we have placed in you.  Please complete your rites.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 78):

"I wouldn't dream of deceiving such big strong heroes as yourselves like that," she responds, slowly regaining the flirtatious edge you are accustomed to.

"We'll need to dig a grave here."

She indicates a spot near the stump, but away from any of the saplings such that the grave would form a new entry in the semicircle.

As the P.A.R.T.Y. busies itself to complete the task, she turns to those who are thus far doing nothing.

"I'll need you to cut a branch off the nearest sapling, to use as his headstone.  It's what the Master would have wanted, and they need the pruning anyway."

Under this direction, assuming everyone complies, the Master is soon interred beneath a withered sapling branch, a seventh part of the semicircle surrounding the stump.

"... and rest well within the soggy embrace of the earth," she concludes about an hour later.

As the final words are spoken, the stone raven's eyes glitter with a pale amber light.  The sapling branch glows as well, and immediately responds by growing into a full-fledged sapling identical to the others.  The light fades from both as quickly as it has appeared.

"It is finished," Cassie nods grimly.  "What's next?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:58, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

"Now we head East."

[private to DM: Zuriel walks next to Cassie on the path leading East. In a quiet voice, he says, "You know, Giles does have a point. I'm sure you could just turn into a bird and leave. I do appreciate that you haven't attempted. We are going to consult the spirit of Wildheart. He should be able to tell us the other half of the story of Veilspire in his prime. Cassie, you owe it to yourself to hear the full tale."]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 82):

The P.A.R.T.Y. travels back to the three-prong intersection, selecting the unexplored path marked on its sign with a droplet of water.  Though this path heads southward initially, it slowly curves toward the east over the course of several hours.

The ground becomes progressively more forest-like as you walk, and by evening you are walking on a pleasant woodland trail unmired by bog grasses and mud.

The sun begins to set without you having found a trace or sound of running water, and you stop to camp in a convenient -- if otherwise nondescript -- clearing.

[Private to Keef: You are extremely hungry by this point, but true to the staff's words, any time you try to eat, you end up throwing it back up.  Even water doesn't sit well with you.  The familiar voice taps at the back of your mind: "Master, I hunger... please, favor me with an offering of food, or don the crown once more to stave it off."]

In reply to DM (msg # 83):

Over the course of the day, Keef keeps up his usual chatter, mostly now focusing on all the different burial rites of various cultures that he's heard of (or thought he might have heard of once).  However, it is evident by the time the P.A.R.T.Y reaches the clearing that his energy and pep are fading.

Most notably, he seems to be unable or unwilling to eat or even drink water.

When everyone is done setting up camp, Keef sits on his pack turning the crown over slowly in his hands.  At his feet are his books and he seems to be looking for something but unable to find it.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:31, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

Keef, are you alright?  You seem... out of sorts.  And your tales of foreign burial rites were actually quite interesting.

As night draws near, the party sets up their usual watch order.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 85):

Though a little pale, Keef is more curious than concerned.

It's hard to say, but I'm pretty sure it's cursed... seems to be.  It might be that wearing it is less bad, but I'm not sure yet.

I find it's usually better not to wear cursed things.  Hold still for a moment, if you will.

Boreas' eye glows, and a thin, green beam that looks for all the world like a UPC scanner sweeps over Keef and the crown.

It is as I feared.  The magic of the crown is starting to rub off on you, although very slightly.  You should probably wrap it up and tuck it away until we reach the followers of Wildheart.  I hope they will have the means to help.

For now, though, get some sleep.  You'll need your strength.

Zuriel frowns in concern. "Cassie, do you have any idea what might be going on? What exactly is that crown?" He ungags her so she can respond.

In reply to Keef (msg # 86):

keef, if you are talking about the crown, remember that evil things can sometimes use their influence to make you do things you shouldn't. It may seem like a good idea to wear it, but that might be what it wants. I think it may be best to leave it be. In the meantime perhaps I can interest you in a little cake?

Lyriel produces a small bundle of what looks to be fruit cake that has been stashed in her cloak these several days.

I find that cake can make anything better, and I've been saving this for when someone might need a little cheering up. Have some! She extends the small bundle and smiles brightly.

That reminds me.  Chomper, Shep: You must be hungry.  I have a bit of jerky I can give you, or you can hunt something of your own if you'd like.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 90):

Cassie smiles as the gag is removed, a mischievous light dancing through her eyes.

"Ah, the famous hospitality of the Emerald Flame."

Chomper nods in agreement, then looks at her expectantly.

"Go ahead, boy.  Have fun.  At least one of us should stretch our legs."

The wolverine bounds off into the foliage and vanishes from sight.

Cassie turns to regard Keef for a moment, then shrugs.

"The tomb is said to contain three things: the Everstaff, the Crown of Thorns, and the Ironwood Band.  If I had to guess, I'd say the boy has managed to collect two of the three pieces."

She licks her chapped lips absently, happy to be able to do so without the gag in place.

"I honestly don't know much about what they do on their own.  Veilspire was never without them.  I think the Master said something about them needing each other to be of any practical use, but clearly that's not the case, seeing as Keef here used the Everstaff to pierce the barrier yesterday."

Cassie glances up at the rapidly reddening skyline and takes a deep breath of forest air.

"Can we maybe keep the gag off?  It's extremely uncomfortable."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:30, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

I could agree to that for now, at least while Chomper is away.

Zuriel catches sight of the cake. "Do mine eyes deceive me? Is that...cherry almond sugarcake?"

He looks longingly at the cake for a moment before turning to Cassie. "Two of three is ominous enough. Where is the Ironwood Band located?"

He looks around at the party for input. "I don't have a problem leaving the gag off. She could have turned into a bird and flown off easily enough, but hasn't. It's not my decision alone to make, however."

. . . . . How have you had cake this entire time?

Three magical items of untold power. . . .it reminds me of a story I once heard, about a young wizard of whom it was prophesied that he would slay a dark lord.

She has been remarkably cooperative.  One might say almost *too* cooperative.  I don't like it, but I don't think Cassie will try and flee without Chomper, and who knows how long he will be out hunting.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 93):

Keef accepts some cake gratefully.  Cake?  I've had cake... once... it was lovely, thank you so much!  How did you keep it?  I mean, without eating it?

He tries a tiny nibble and immediately goes green.  He returns the rest politely.

In reply to Keef (msg # 95):

Cassie nods solemnly as Keef tries and fails to choke down some cake.

"That's what happened to Barnaby, too."

She blinks as everyone's gaze swivels to fixate on her.

"A former member of the circle," she clarifies.  "I never met him, but the Master said he once ignored his warnings and placed the crown upon his head. When the Master caught him, he tore the item from his brow and put it back in the tomb, saying something about respect for the dead and for dangerous magical items.  But from that day on, Barnaby was unable to eat or drink.  He eventually died of thirst."

Cassie shakes her head slowly.

"I forget exactly what the Master said about the cure, but it's not the sort of thing that goes away on its own."

Giles?  You were wearing that thing earlier. . . .

Maeve tries to recall if she's seen Giles drinking from his waterskin at any point since then.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 94):

Why yes Zuriel it is, my mother's recipe in fact. She is something of a cook, she was able to infuse the cake with all the nutrition a man or woman could need for a day. So a couple of bites and one is quite satisfied. She smiles. Then turns to Maeve.

And yes Maeve I have, I figured someone might like some along the way and since poor Keef here seems to be having a rough time of it I think it might do him some good. She watches as the boy takes a small nibble then turns a pale shade of green. Hmm, well that certainly isn't good I know it can't be the cakes fault. Do you not remember anything else Cassie, this could be dire!

Zuriel's eyes blaze. "It sounds like we need to get to the Wildheart right away." He rounds on Giles. "If we can't get the curse lifted in time, his death will be on your hands, Giles. I *TOLD* you not to trifle with the evil artifacts."

"Should we push on through the night? I have no idea how close we are. It seems we now are on a time limit...or would that only hasten the exhaustion?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 99):

Cassie shrugs, perplexed by the general chaos this discovery has caused.

"Surely a group allied with the Flame possesses the means to lift such a curse?  As for the Ironwood Band, we never could figure out where it went.  Like the crown and the staff, I've left it well enough alone."

She hesitates, looking once more at the skies.

"Although, I do have the means of determining how far we may have left to go until reaching the river.  Y'know...as the crow flies..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:10, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

Zuriel raises an eyebrow warningly. "Baby steps, Cassie. We only just elected to remove your gag."

He turns back to the party. "On second thought, I think pushing through the night would be a bad idea. We can ask the book how to break the curse and go from there. It won't answer until the morning anyway. We have a little time yet. Better to be thirsty than exhausted and thirsty."

Zuriel lays out his bedroll, eyeing the piece of cake longingly.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:22, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 101):

Cassie grins with faux humility.

"True, true.  My apologies for infringing upon your continued hospitality."

She glances at Lyriel for a moment, and you can almost see the wheels turning in her head.

"Unless Tassada has recently adopted books at a holy symbol, I take it that means you won't be able to remove the curse yourself?  More's the pity.  But I myself know a thing or three about divine magic, you know."

She smiles sweetly.

"You could always ask me..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:33, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 102):

Lyriel looks over in Cassie's direction a contemplative look on her face, Thank you for your offer Cassie, but I fear I must politely decline, at lest for now. As she finishes you can almost hear her thoughts.

Our need is not so great yet, and I am not sure what the price would be...

Lyriel then busies herself with packaging the cake back up until she sees the longing look in Zuriel's eyes. She grins and extends the package towards him, Perhaps you would like some? If it can't bring comfort to Keef it should at least give someone happiness.

Zuriel grins like a child in a pastry shop. "I was hoping there'd be some left over..." He cuts a small morsel and takes a bite, and his eyes close involuntarily, a look of bliss on his face. "Gods, this is *amazing*," he manages to say around a mouthful of cake, disregarding propriety entirely.

"Your mother is an incredible bakeress. Cook? Confextriss? Whatever the proper term is."

Almost makes up for the time Lady Vesper publicly insinuated that Father was a whore-monger and I a trollop's bastard at the Winter Flame Festival...almost.

[OOC: Zuriel is ready to call it a night whenever. He will discreetly entrust whomever is on watch with his sword, and instruct them how to activate its Gust ability should Cassie turn into a bird and make a break for it]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 104):

Lyriel's smile broadens and she gives a small chuckle, I'm glad you like it, and yes my mother is a rather good baker, I can only say I learned from the best. You are in fact eating my cake, I amended the recipe a bit. She gives him a wink.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 103):

For his part, and given his age, Keef puts up a valient fight, pacing to and fro, eying everyone else as they sup and trying to distract himself with his shiny sword.

However, he eventually breaks down, digs out the crown from his pack and places it on his head.

Calm visibly washes over Keef as he dives into any leftovers he can find.

Between mouthfulls he explains If we can't lift the curse, might as well wear it so I can eat

He looks up in surprise at this revelation, and gets up to perform a grand sweeping courtly bow that reminds the party that Zuriel is in fact Highborn raised. "Then forgive me my assumptions, O Illustrious Mistress of the Most Holy Cake. I bow in your august presence, and hope you accept my sincerest apologies as well as my compliments to your exquisite confectionery abilities."

He concludes his dramatic statement with a grandiose flourish and a kiss on Lyriel's hand with a flamboyant air that even Giles would find impressive.

Maeve rolls her eyes extravagantly at Zuriel's obscene cake-eating.

Right then. I'm glad you enjoyed eating Lyriel's cake.  She tries to think of a way to turn that into some sort of innuendo, but decides to be an adult about the situation.

She spies Keef pacing, looking ill at ease.

The poor kid is on pins and needles.  He needs a distraction.

Come, Keef.  I know that Zuriel's been giving you some lessons.  Before we turn in, let's see what you've learned! Later, if you're up for it, I'll tell you a story from my homeland.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:40, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

Boreas throws up in his mouth a little.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 109):

A solemn Sir Giles drinks deeply from his waterskin and shares jerky with Shep, all while looking decidedly not cursed.

And they didn't even offer me any cake!
This message was last edited by the player at 11:57, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 110):

Keef gladly accepts Maev's offer to spar and he throws himself into it with all the enthusiasm, dedication and 'focus' you have come to expect.

In reply to Keef (msg # 111):

Thus the night is spent, with each watch punctuated by nothing more than the noises of insects and other nocturnal creatures.  Morning dawns at its appointed time, and you awaken to find that none had experienced an unpleasant dream - a small mercy for which all are grateful.

Chomped has yet to return, but Cassie seems unconcerned by this.  After taking some time to prepare spells and secure belongings, you continue your journey down the path.

The path becomes aggressively easier as it slopes into a valley between two larger hills, and around midday your motley crew of adventurers finally comes to something interesting: a mushroom hut set in a small clearing.

This structure looks charmingly whimsical, with a bright red mushroom roof dotted with white spots.  Plants of various kinds grow around the hut in a well-tended garden, though it pales before the complexity of Cassandra's.

A sign out front reads OPEN in common, elven, and dwarven, along with a few languages you do not recognize.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:37, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 112):

Keef travels wearing the crown, but with the Everstaff wrapped up and lashed securely to his pack.  Instead he wears his customary waster tucked into his belt.

His spirits are much higher today.  Possibly it was the food and sleep, possibly the crown or the sparring, but the most telling sign of Keef's mood, his mouth, never stops running.

That, Keef observes of the mushroom hut, Looks like the home of Bom Thombadil.  I'm sure it does!  Just like in the tales.  I had that book once but... well I don't have it anymore, but I remember it really well!

In reply to DM (msg # 112):

Why wouldn't we bound aggressively toward the giant mushroom house?

"Well this is unexpected," says Zuriel, somewhat taken aback. "I can't imagine they get much clientele out here. Lets have a look, maybe they can give us more specific directions."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 115):

If he's home, we should offer him a pumpkin or other gourd.

Keef meets everyone's puzzled expression with a look that says "Isn't that self-evident?"

He loves them... Keef explains.

Chubbs, for once, seems to agree.

In reply to Keef (msg # 116):

Ah of course. I'm somewhat familiar with this corner of the woods

[Knowledge Geography 22]

And I think I know just the place to find these pumpkin gourds you are looking for- I've seen them before.

[Knowledge Nature 24]

Would anyone like to come with me as we acquire our offering for the toadstool God?

Oh!  You mean a pumpmition.  Must be a regional thing.

While people are standing around discussing the nuances of pumpkin nomenclature, Zuriel consults his book, as usual copying down its response on a scrap of parchment. He reads the response to his question of how to lift Keef's curse aloud to the party.

"Wear the crown or feed the staff / lest you suffer Veilspire's wrath
Else through power, break the curse / beware, that path may make things worse
Best to use the iron band / the curse will lift while on his hand
Where it lies, I cannot say / so ask again another day

...so it looks like it might be a bad idea to just lift the curse. Though I hardly think assembling the trifecta of artifacts will end well for anybody. At least we know how to keep Keef alive until we can figure this out. Perhaps Wildheart will know more. At any rate, Maeve, perhaps you could accompany Giles to acquire a pumpmition?"

She is probably best equipped to deal with any foolery he might try to pull...

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 119):

Come Meave. We'll go for a romantic stroll through the pumpkin patch!

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 120):

Maeve shrugs.

Fuck it.  Let's go get a pumpmition!

In reply to Maeve (msg # 121):

The Gourdseekers

Giles and Maeve stroll around the hut, and into the garden that extends out back.  As Giles examines this herb and that, a shrill voice calls out from the hut.

"Hey! You there!"

Turning guiltily, the pair notices a short humanoid poking its head from the window.

"Are you the exterminators I've been asking for? It's about time you got here -I Sent for you hours ago!

Front of the Hut

You hear a shrill voice from behind the dwelling, but can't quite make out the words.

Best go see what that is then.

Boreas goes around the other side of the hut to investigate.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 121):

OOC- I wrote this up before the DM took all the fun out of it. Assume we go round and say something along the lines of "Hell ya we're the exterminators!". I'm leaving my other post below because dammit, it's a good one.

Sir Giles, Shep, and Maeve bound off wistfully in search of the elusive pumpmition.

Within minutes, the pair and the hound are out of the party's sight.

"I like you Maeve. I really do. But I think this might be the end of the line for us."

Sir Giles makes for his sword, before breaking out in uproarious laughter as the muscles in Maeve's body go taut and her knuckles whiten in grip around her guisarme.

"You thought I was going to fight you, here, in the middle of the woods within earshot of everyone? Jeez. You guys REALLY do not trust me. Sir Giles is a lot of things, but first and foremost, he is practical and realistic when it comes to his survival.

But seriously, this is the end of the line for us Maeve."

Sir Giles again reaches for his sword, before kneeling to the ground and effortlessly cutting a pumpmition from its stalk.

"Boy that was convenient!"

Zuriel makes to follow Boreas, beckoning to the rest of the party.

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 124):

It's not that I don't trust you, Giles.  Well, not entirely.  It's more that I think that yes, you would indeed be stupid enough to try and fight me within earshot of everyone.  What was that you said?  "Intelligence and Quality of character are not "desired traits" on the Sir Giles spectrum of bardic perpetuation?"

That said, I leave the selection of a pumpmition in your capable hands.  Shep lifts a leg on a pumpmition as his contribution to the mission.

Giles selects a pumpmition, and they are then"greeted" by the mushroom hut's occupant, followed shortly thereafter by the sounds of the rest of the P.A.R.T.Y tramping around to the back.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 126):

Oh... a YELLOW pumpmition... figures...
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

In reply to Keef (msg # 127):

You know I've made a really delicious pie out of pumpmition before, almost as good as my cake. She grins in the direction of Zuriel before following towards the hut.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 128):

As her companions round the corner, Maeve notes that Boreas appears to be wiping vomit from his mouth.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 129):

The speaker from the hut blinks as more people enter his line of vision.

"I'm glad to see you took this so seriously," he says.  "Why, you even brought the Flame.  Excellent."

The window slams shut, and before long a corpulent halfling waddles out the back door.

He is dressed in plain clothing, and wears an off-white apron smeared with sap, dirt, and dust.  Short rivulets of curly brown hair hang limply around his head, sagging with grease or sweat.

"That's coming out of your pay, by the way," he quips at Giles, who is still holding the recently harvested pumpmition behind his back in an incriminating manner.

"Now then," he continues, rubbing his hands together with anticipation.  "What's the plan?  I was hoping for a subtle poisoning, but you look like you might favor a more direct approach."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:56, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

Zuriel is taken aback. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you're referring to. Were you expecting us? And what is it you're trying to poison?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 131):

The gnome frowns, stamping the ground in frustration.

"Gods, just once, I'd like the dispatcher to actually do his job," he mutters.  "Look, the job's pretty simple. I have an infestation in the root cellar -- some kind of crazy fungal problem."

He glares at you at eyes glance at his mushroom home skeptically.

"No, that's intentional.  Don't you understand art?  Mercenaries..." he grumbles.  "Anyway, I keep some of my best stuff in the root cellar, and these abominations keep eating it.  I can't store 'em anywhere else because they rot quickly in the heat and the sun."

The halfling wipes his sweaty hands across the apron, achieving nothing but perhaps the addition of dirt and grime.

"I'm sorry you weren't properly briefed, but as long as you're here, you wanna take a look?  I'm good for the fee -- you can check my records."

Zuriel looks to his companions. "As long as we are here I can't imagine it would hurt to take a look. What kind of business do you do here, anyway? Are you an apothecary?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 133):

"Nope! Botanist, chemist, and part-time baker," the halfling says, preening.  "Never got the hang of the true brewing.  Fickle stuff."

He jerks his thumb toward a large storm door jutting out from the back of the house, near the door through which he entered the garden.

"The trouble's down there.  I don't even bother to lock it anymore.  Have at it, and let me know when you're done."

With that, the halfling ambles back into the hut.

In reply to DM (msg # 134):

Keef's eyes widen.

A random peasant in distress?

He grins like an idiot.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 133):

As we're talking about poisoning and indiscriminate murder of organic material, this would perhaps be more appropriately handled by myself as chief fee negotiator?

I do have extensive experience with almost all of the woods potential predators and irritants, to say nothing of its irritating predators.

"We should probably take a look at the extent and nature of the infestation first..."

In reply to Maeve (msg # 126):

[Private to DM; Maeve: Those characteristics are not desired from the people Sir Giles interacts with, especially the ladies. Sir Giles is known far and wide for his intelligence and quality of character. It's in my book!

Alas, it is probably right that you do not trust me. With so much unknown about me, and us clearly of vastly differing moral compasses, it's only right for you to be skeptical. It's part of your charm, truly. Were I you, and I'd just seen Keef cursed, and me completely fine, I'd be curious too. I tend to think it's just because Sir Giles has built up a certain immunity to life's ailments.

But if you know only one thing about Sir Giles (you recall this is easily not the first time he's said something of this nature), know this- He is a survivor, and if he has cause to come for you, he will do so when you least expect it, when it most benefits him, and because it's required for him to survive.

Brigand. Hero. Troubadour. Ranger. Adventurer. Lecherous Sot.

Sir Giles is many things, to many people, but he is never one to seek his own death, and he is not a cold blooded murderer.

..

Oh, right, you're still hung up on that Cassie thing. *sigh* There's just no changing how some people think.]

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 138):

Cassie clears her throat conspicuously.

"If we're thinking about jumping into this halfling's cellar to deal with an infestation severe enough that we don't raise much of an eyebrow, might I make a suggestion?"

She holds her bound hands in front of her as much as she is able.

"Free me, and let me help you."

"Let's see what this infestation looks like first. I'd rather you weren't in combat at all, to be honest. You *are* still recovering."

Zuriel looks over Cassie, assessing the extent of her recovery.

[Heal: 11]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:05, Fri 18 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 140):

"If you aren't going to undo my bindings and you're worried about my health, I don't think I should go down there at all," she replies.

She has a point. Our host seemed pleased to see Zuriel and Lyriel. I hate to think of what sort of infestation would require divine intervention.

Zuriel nods. "I agree, if you aren't free and fighting I don't want you down there at all. Let's have a few people check out the infestation and then we'll determine how best to tackle it."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 143):

I'll go.  Can't say I know much about fungus--Gaelia isn't exactly known for its moist environs--but I'd like to help.

I'll come with you.  My set of skills will complement yours.  Lyriel, we could use some divine prowess if we get in a pinch.  And maybe one more person.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 145):

The tracker woodsman, if you would please?

My skills are at your disposal.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 147):

The cellar's storm door is heaved open, Maeve, Boreas, Lyriel, Giles, and Shep carefully descend into the gloom.

The Cellar

The doors open to reveal a stone staircase, which heads down for a distance of about three stories before reaching the ground, which is unpaved.  The hard-packed dirt serves as a fitting platform for crate and crate of vegetable matter.

The interior resembles nothing so much as a large barn, though one with earthen walls.  The stacks of crates and containers stop abruptly about halfway across the room, where they are replaced by piles and piles of purplish mushrooms.  They come in all shapes and sizes, and the exact shade of purple varies as well.

As you shine your torch in the direction of the fungal masses, approaching them for a better look, a piercing scream fills the air.  It lasts for about 20 seconds, then fades.  Each time you move closer to the purple masses, the sound repeats itself.

Despite all this, you do not detect anything in the way of movement.  There are no other exits.

In The Garden

Keef, Zuriel, Chubbs, and Cassie idle about the garden, waiting to hear some news from their companions.  The early afternoon sun does little to pierce the encroaching autumn's chill, but at least the breeze is mercifully still.

I don't think I've seen these before.  Look to be two different species here though.  Spent most of my time aboveground.  Giles, do you know what they are?

[Knowledge (Nature) 9]

In reply to DM (msg # 148):

[Knowledge Nature 20]

Ah. These are somewhat familiar to me.

Hold while I think on where I've seen these before.

Zuriel looks from Cassie to Keef, noticing both their eyes on him. "Sooooo," he says to break the awkward silence, "this crisp autumn weather is a refreshing change. Puts me in the mood for pumpmition ale. I'd wager they are just starting to break into the first barrels of this Fall's stock at the taverns in Hae'driel and Triss. I hear the Flickering Lantern in Triss makes the best pumpmition ale in the realm, though I've not had the occasion to try it myself. Have either of you had the style before?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 151):

In The Garden

"I don't spend much time in or around taverns," Cassie says.  "Though I do enjoy a nice cider this time of the year."

A rustling sound announces Chomper's return, and the well-fed wolverine bounds over to the group looking quite pleased with himself.

In The Cellar

Giles carefully points out the differences between two different types of fungus, as Boreas had correctly surmised.  The sound, according to the hero, eminates from the small, stubby ones.  This is meant to lure prey close enough for the thinner, more flexible ones, which have been known the lash out with vinelike appendages and poisonous contact toxins.  There appear to be several clusters of each type scattered throughout the contaminated part of the cellar.

We'll have to take them out from a distance then.

Boreas takes careful aim at one of the lashers and looses a blast of emerald energy, but a sudden scream from one of the shriekers breaks his concentration and sends the bolt wild.

[Ranged Touch 8]

[OOC]Boreas stayed near the group, firing from 30' away from the fungus.[/OOC]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:21, Sat 19 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 153):

In the Cellar

The blast of energy goes wide, but it certainly alerts the various fungi to your presence.


~~ Initiative ~~
Giles 19
Maeve 17
Boreas 10
Lyriel 9
Fungi 5 (5x Shriekers, 2x Violet)

In the Garden

"So," Cassie says, smiling as Chomper winds his way around her legs.  "What's your plan for what to do when the real exterminators show up, paladin?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:21, Sat 19 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 154):

Zuriel's question seems to make Keef nervous.

I don't.... my dad liked ale...

"The Flame tends to shun taverns for the most part, but you'll nonetheless see paladins enjoying a drink or two on occasion. It's nice to take the tabard off sometimes. Speaking of cider,  The Groundhog Inn makes the most amazing concoction. The barrels they broach at the autumnal equinox are simply sublime. It's as if they take the essence of the season and distill it into a liquid."

Noting Keef's concern, Zuriel replies, "With strong drink Keef, it is important to know ones limits. Ale and cider can be good in reasonable quantities, but take care not to overindulge lest you make decisions you will come to regret. I've seen ale make monsters of otherwise good men."

In reply to DM (msg # 154):

Sir Giles readies an arrow in response to any attacks made on his person.

"Oh sure, when it's fungi you're all shoot first and ask questions 2nd!"

To be fair, I asked questions first.

Maeve stands tentatively back from the mushrooms and uses her guisarme to swipe at a patch of the shrieking mushrooms.

[Attack 15]

[Damage 6

Gem crackling with energy, Boreas easily scales about ten feet up the wall of the cellar and looses another blast, this time hitting its target.

Ranged Touch 13

It sears the violet fungus but does not destroy it.

Damage 2

[OOC]How many of each are there?[/OOC]

DM Edit: Updated numbers in initiative post to answer this question
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:22, Sat 19 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 161):

Maeve watches the ranger skitter up the wall with ease.

Boreas, you are full of one creepy surprise after another.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 162):

Keef nods but gets quiet.

He wanders around the garden kicking at molehills.

Chubbs gives Zuriel a look of abject and scathing indifference.  He finds the largest pumpmition and hops on top, claiming it as his temporary throne and daring any local insects to challenge him.

Zuriel responds to Cassie's initial question. "I imagine if we take care of the infestation first we'll tell them so and they'll have to be okay with that. Although who the halfling possibly could have called, I have no clue."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 01:45, Sun 20 Oct 2013.

Lyriel positions herself so that she can hit as many fungi as possible then calls down the cleansing fire of her goddess. [Burning Hands]

[Damage:9]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 165):

The flames lick at the fungi, consuming them indiscriminately.  The shrieking grows louder for a moment, then ends abruptly.

End Combat

In reply to DM (msg # 166):

Looks like you're too hot to touch Lyriel.

Adventurer AND ad hoc Exterminator- Sir Giles resume is ever expanding.

Just the thing for the job!  Good thinking, Lyriel.

Boreas climbs back down to ground level.

That was excellent!  Maeve looks wistfully from her polearm to the smoldering remains of the mushrooms.

Maybe we had best go and see about that fee that was mentioned.  We could use some of it to purchase some useful plants or brews.  Besides, I feel that it might be a good idea to clear out before the real exterminators arrive.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 169):

Thank you everyone, I'm flattered. She blushes.

I agree with Maeve, we best go see about that fee.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 170):

You return to the surface, victorious, and approach the home on hopes of procuring your reward.  The proprietor seems genuinely impressed.

"Done already? Gods, you're good. Would you prefer your payment in cash, or store credit? I'll toss in a little extra if you choose the latter."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:43, Sun 20 Oct 2013.

"What wares do you carry?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 172):

"Well..." the halfling scratches his head in thought.  "I've got all yer basic pastes, herbal remedies, and compounds, of course.  Also been dabbling in oils, lately.  Balsamic, olive, even a few magical odds and ends. Whetstone oil and Cross-stitch oil are my newest creations, granting temporary sharpness to bladed weapons or durability to garments, respectively."

He beams with pride.

"Hope to sell 'em to the Empire or at the Hunter's Lodge someday.  And now that my cellar's cleared out, perhaps I can work on even more complicated oils."

The halfling motions walks you around his shop, pointing out a few other odds and ends, then hands you a price sheet.



"Your fee is 150 gold pieces, minus that ripe pumpmition your ranger pilfered, for a total of 130 gold pieces.  If you'd prefer, I'd be happy to offer you store credit of 200 gold pieces, instead."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:28, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Zuriel considers the price sheet, passing it around to his companions. "Well, I would recommend stocking up here with store credit. Maeve, would you care to take a look at the tea? If its of quality I think we should stock up. My supply is low, and we didn't get much chamomile. Anti-toxin might also be a good investment.

He thinks for a minute, and addresses the shopkeep. "We're looking for the stream of Glen'dinel, would you know how far it is? My understanding is that its east of here?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 174):

The halfling nods.

"Sure do!  Most folks just call it the Feywood River, nowadays.  Odd to hear a Flamebringer refer to it by its Wild name... but in a good way. You can reach its banks by continuing along this trail for another week or so."

He pauses, taking in the rather crestfallen faces before him.

"Er, there is a shortcut, but I've never tried it myself.  There's a fork in the path about a day from here, at which point you can go uphill or downhill.  I always go uphill, even though it takes another six days or so to get to the river by that route -- the trail is easier, despite the incline, and it's safe.  Going downhill will wind you toward the river in another two or three days, instead, but you'll pass right through Mid'riel's hunting grounds along the way."

He sighs audibly.

"And believe me, that's never worth the trouble."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:42, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

"We've dealt with Mid'riel before, and we're in something of a hurry. We'll take the faster route. I appreciate your information; you've saved us a great deal of time. It's occurred to me that I've not yet formally made your acquaintance. I am Zuriel of House Siléndril." The paladin extends his gauntleted hand in greeting.

Maeve examines the tea with great interest and with the skill of one raised on the beverage.

[Knowledge tea 13 plus any mods you deem appropriate]

This is an excellent blend.  You have impeccable taste, good sir.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 178):

Sir Giles playfully carves the pumpmition into a spooky face, using it to surprise the various members of the P.A.R.T.Y.

"Ah what whimsy it is travelling with you. 24 hours ago, we were all almost killed by a druid in preparation of a blood ritual, and now we're buying team and pumpmitions. Do the wonders ever cease?"

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 179):

Keef pokes his nose into this container or that of the shop, but keeps his hands uncharacteristically to themselves.

Chubbs hops around leaving small wet flipper-prints.

I was hoping for pumpmition pye. Keef muses as he watches Giles carve. But a Jake-Oh-lantern is fun too!

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 179):

Maeve does indeed jump a tiny bit when Giles' admittedly rather well-carved pumpmition peers over her shoulder.

I've never heard of anyone carving faces in a pumpmition.  Is that a tradition in these parts?

She turns her attention back to the halfling.

I must confer with the rest of my companions, but I know that we will certainly be using some of our credit to restock our supplies with your most excellent tea.  And undoubtedly some other essentials as well.  This thunderstone sounds interesting. What do they do?
This message was last edited by the player at 13:15, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 181):

I've heard of them... but never gotten to touch one... Keef's fingers twitch in obvious excitement.

He gestures with both arms.  They make a LOT of noise.

In reply to Keef (msg # 182):

a pocket zuriel, as it were.

"Well, I think we should stock up on all the tea. Some spices might be nice to have too. The right spices can turn a stew cooked in the middle of the woods into an actual meal. And I should think you'd have a difficult time keeping quiet in chainmail too, Giles."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 184):

(tongue firmly in cheek)

"T'was not a quip about the clanging of armor Master Zuriel, I assure you"

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 185):

"The name's Nando Rucksackington, but everyone calls me Ruck," the shopkeep says, shaking Zuriel's offered hand before shuffling over to lift the thunderstone carefully from its shelf.

"And the young squire is quite right," the proprietor continues.  "You can throw this stone about 20 feet without much effort, or straight down, or hit it with a hammer -- either way, it produces a very sizable noise that'll deafen most anyone within about 10 feet of the thing for quite a while."

"It's handy against mages in particular," he beams, then stage whispers in Keef's direction. "And stops the jeering of schoolyard bullies in a jiffy."

He bustles about the shop, collecting the items the party seemed interested in.

"Lessee, ya got yer thunderstone, five pounds of Gaelian Nights, 'bout ten pounds of miscellaneous herbs and spices; and a ripe pumpition for the lad's pie.  Brings you to $65, with $135 left on the tab.  Which, by the by, I'd be happy to leave open for ya to use at a later date."

Ruck wipes his dirty hands on a dirtier apron absently, then cocks his head to one side as if listening for something.

"Hmm... hear that?  Sounds like a wagon!  Rare around these parts, but great for business.  I wonder who they could be."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:57, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 185):

I've got some spice Keef produces a small leather pouch of cooking spice from his backpack.

I got it from the Duke's chef.  I was saving them for a celebration or... whatever

We should get two smokesticks too.  Never know when we'll need to make a hasty escape.

Boreas' ears prick up as he hears the wagon approach.

Speaking of which, we need to be off.  Good day to you, Ruck.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:21, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 188):

Ruck nods absently, tosses two smokestacks into the pile of merchandise.

"And that brings you to $105, with $95 left on the tab.  If you're heading out, I'll just keep it open for you under... Zuriel, was it?"

The paladin nods, and Ruck jots a few notes down on a scrap of paper near the checkout area.  The halfling's fat fingers move with surprising ease, nimbly collecting and binding your newly purchased goods before transporting them to a burlap sack, which he hands to Boreas.

"Here you are, sirs.  Madams.  And pleasant travels to you."

With that, Ruck scurries around the shop, tidying up this and that in anticipation for what he hopes will be a wagonload of customers.

***

Your travels continue without much interruption until evening, leaving you about a day out from the fork in the trail Ruck had mentioned.  You find a slight clearing just as the sun sinks beneath the horizon.  It's tucked closer to the road than you usually camp, but it's the first spot that'll sleep a group your size that you've come across in several hours.

Insects and birds come to life as the light fades from the sky, their clarion calls heralding the onset of dusk.

Cassie shakes her bound wrists wearily, creating a clanking sound.

"Shall we camp, or do you have a forced nighttime march in mind?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:25, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

We have tea, spices, and a rather handsome pumpmition. If Boreas or Giles can get us a rabbit, this sounds like the makings for a proper meal.  I say we camp.  No sense blundering around the woods at night.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 189):

As the group travels, Boreas expounds on pumpmitions:

They're not that common where I'm from, but that's what we always called them.  As for carving them, it's a strange practice but I have heard of it.  Out near Cove City, I'm told there is a fall festival, the 'Carvinl Carnival,' where they cut faces into the sides of the gourds - eyes, nose, and a mouth with teeth - the more bizarre, the better.  They put candles in them and use them to light the festival well into the night.

Unusual, to be sure, but it sounds fun.

He moves to the rear of the group, handing Keef one of the smokesticks and talks to him briefly in hushed tones.

[Private to Keef: Take this.  If a fight ever goes really bad, you can use it to get away.  As for my eye, I'm not really sure.  The gem is a family heirloom, but I don't know how it got there, weird as it seems.  I was born with only one eye, but about a year ago, I woke up one morning and just found it there.  Didn't know it was magical until the rest of you did.  Not that magical, anyway.]

When they arrive at the clearing, Boreas checks the area to make sure that it is suitable for camping.

[Survival 19]

Maeve looks thoughtfully at the ponderous gourd-like fruit. Both of them; Giles has proudly carried along his carved pumpmition and it grins cheekily back at her.

Not that I actually know how one prepares pumpmition, mind you. . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 14:45, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 192):

"I could prepare a mean pumpmition pie for you all to enjoy," Cassie smiles innocently.  "But not with these bindings in place."

Chomper nods in vigorous agreement and yips.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "It's true.  She's a great cook!"]

Zuriel gazes at Cassie thoughtfully, gauging how innocuous her offer really is.

[Sense Motive: 20]

This may sound odd, but I'm considering giving you a chance to prove yourself, Cassie.  Zuriel, is she being honest with us?

Zuriel continues studying her for a moment longer, before nodding and smiling. He undoes her bindings. "I say we give her a chance. Perhaps if there's enough pumpmition Lyriel can bake a cake too...we could have cake AND pie."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 196):

Cassie grins with genuine relief as the bindings are removed, and she flexes her wrists while sighing wistfully.

"You have my thanks, Flamebringer.  Such trust deserves a reward," she plucks the pumpmition from Maeve and, with a flourish, begins to collect a variety of herbs and spices from the burlap sack.  "Best get the fire started."

Her hands hover over the berries you relieved from her for a moment, but she appears to think better of making a move for them.  Instead, she walks over to a nearby tree and softly utters words of power.

"Gre'lish," she says, petting the evergreen's trunk gently.  The wood glows, then a moderate chunk sloughs from the side to create a smooth, natural bowl.

Cassie whistles, bird-like, as she works, dividing her attention between dumping spices and adding other ingredients into the newly minted cookware.  She pauses, considering the pumpition for a moment before reaching for her hilt -- or where her hilt should be.

"Er... right.  Chomper?"

The wolverine hops to, using his sharp claws to puncture the top of the gourd and slice it cleanly in half.  Cassie pats the critter's furry head in praise, and in short order she has gutted the stringy bits and seeds from the vegetable.

Setting the halves between two stakes, she sets them above the fire to roast.  Half an hour later, she removes the roasting gourd and carefully scoops the softened flesh from the rim, leaving behind flimsy, paperlike pumpmition shell.

The softened flesh she adds to the wooden bowl from earlier, and she expertly mashes it all together -- singing softly all the while -- before setting the entire thing over the fire, low enough to retain the heat but high enough to keep the bowl-turned-pie-tin from burning.

An hour later, a piping-hot pumpmition pie is set aside to cool.

"Who's hungry?"

Anyone particularly interested in the process -- or paranoid about the druid preparing food -- should make a Perception roll and PM me the results.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:05, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

While the pumpmition pie cools, Maeve prepares some of the Gaelian tea and hands it to everyone except for Keef.

Zuriel smiles and digs into the pie happily, savoring the taste. "Cassie, this is excellent! Where did you learn this recipe? You and Lyriel need to compare notes. 'Tis a good thing we're doing all this walking or we'd soon become the fattest, happiest adventurers ever between the two of you!"

[OOC - unless somebody perceived her putting poison in the pie or some such silliness]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 199):

Cassie smiles at the praise, helping herself to a generous slice while leaving plenty for the rest of the P.A.R.T.Y.

"I'm glad you enjoy it," she says between mouthfuls.  "It's taken me a long time to perfect the recipe."

In reply to DM (msg # 200):

Pie and Tea! What a delightful break in the otherwise life-threatening action!

Giles remains decidedly and decisively absent from the tea AND pie consumption.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:39, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 200):

Lyriel takes a bite of the pie smiling at the flavor. Mmm, this is quite good Cassie, but I think I detect some flavors that I wouldn't think to add to pumpniton pie. Pray-tell what are those extra ingredients? They are quite good!

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 202):

Maeve nods in agreement with the praise as she savors the pumpmition pie.

Yes, it tastes as though there might be cinnamon in here.  It comes from the bark of a tree.  It's not native to Gaelia, but we see a lot of it in the markets. The rest of the spices I don't recognize.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:35, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 203):

Keef tucks in without reservation and keeps all 'tee' related paraphanilia away from him at all costs.

Chubbs watches Cassie throughout the cooking process, giving her a constant "You don't fool me, you're unimportant and boring" look the entire time.

While everyone else is eating it, and though Keef offers, Chubbs refuses.  Clearly he isn't going to dignify the confection with his attention.

In reply to Keef (msg # 204):

"Just a handful of secret herbs and spices, compounded with natural ingredients.  All the best stuff is made this way," Cassie responds, nodding toward Lyriel.  "I can share the recipe with you later if you'd like."

Boreas eats his slice of delicious pumpmition pie, a smile creeping across his face.

After finishing the pie and giving Cassie a little while out of her bonds, he approaches her.

The pie was delicious, and that went a long way toward showing me that we can trust you.  But I don't trust you just yet.  I'm sorry, but we still have to keep you bound for now.

Assuming no protest, Boreas re-binds Cassie's hands, leaving off the gag this time.

Same watch order as before?  Let's all get some rest.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:55, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Zuriel nods, making ready for sleep.

As she settles down for first watch, Maeve notices that somebody--probably Giles or Keef-- has stuck a lit candle inside the carved pumpmition.  It continues to grin cheekily.

Lyriel nods at Cassie, I would love for you to share your recipe sometime if you'd like, but for now I think I should get ready for my watch. She settles in beside Maeve, then turns back to Cassie, Thanks again. Lyriel sits, eyes staring off into space, lost in thoughts of good and evil, wondering if she could be friends with this woman under different circumstances.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 209):

All is quiet during the first watch, and Zuriel begins his customary second watch without awakening Keef.

The evening insects dominate the ambiance for a while, until finally a distinctive creaking sound can be heard from the trail, coming from the west -- back the way you came.

Cassie glances over at Zuriel, concerned, and nudges Chomper awake.

"Find what's coming, little one," she whispers.

The wolverine grumbles slightly, wiping sleep from its eyes with a paw before bounding obediently down the trail -- and slightly off to one side, in the underbrush.

Zuriel begins quietly waking the party to prepare for whatever is coming. Once everybody is awake, he gestures for them to make for the cover of the woods to the side of the road, where they can observe undetected.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 211):

Cassie crouches in the foliage, all but invisible among the trees.

"Chomper hasn't seen anything yet," she whispers.  "But I think our abandoned campsite is going to draw attention.  We were clearly sleeping there moments ago, complete with fire pit and the works, and it's not like we had time to pack up properly."

She flinches as if struck, and a loud yelp pierces the evening silence, swiftly followed by the yelling of human voices.

"I'm coming! CHOMPERRRR--RRROAAAR!"

Cassandra bellows, voice becoming several order of magnitude deeper as she hurtles from her hiding place to charge headlong down the trail, heedless of any actions taken to stop her. (Unless you react by shooting her dead in the process).

She grows larger and longer with each pace, transforming into a large, angry bear before your eyes.  The manacles fall to the ground as the change becomes complete, and in next to no time she has vanished from sight down the trail.

Shortly thereafter, the night erupts with the sounds of voices yelling, creatures roaring, and flashes of smoke and fire from down the trail.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:39, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Zuriel charges down the path towards the carnage, swearing to himself in a very un-paladinlike manner.

Maeve and presumably the rest of the party is hot on his heels.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:42, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 214):

Lyriel takes off after Maeve and Zuriel shouting, does anyone have the orb should we need it? I have a spell that might be useful if we need to stop Cassie from escaping, but the orb could be better in this situation.

Boreas, gem crackling with energy, follows Maeve and Zuriel into the woods.  He clutches the Submission Sphere in his hand in case it is needed.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 214):

Zuriel and the others hurtle down the road to find a scene of utter chaos.

The most noticeable feature is a large wooden cart pulled by a team of four horses, which is turned sideways across the trail, blocking it.  Upon the cart is what looks like a very large metal keg, turned on its side, upon which is printed the words: BUZZKILL: Your Pest-Control Specialists!

A large hose extends from the top of the keg, which ends in a bronze nozzle of some kind.  A begoggled dwarf wearing a thick leather apron and gloves stands atop the rig, grasping the hosing and directing a spray of some sort at a swarm of insects that's buzzing around him.  His haphazard blasts are causing noxious fumes to spray everywhere, burning ugly brown patches in the foliage around the trail even as the furious swarm bites and stings at the dwarf's body relentlessly.

The horses appear to be frozen in place, either by fear or by magic.  The battered forms of two human archers and dwarf armed with a crossbow litter the trail nearby, unmoving, next to the completely still form of a wolverine, which lies in a pool of blood with a handful of arrows and bolts protruding from his hide.

Not far from this scene is Cassie the Bear, who is currently engaged in melee combat with four human swordsmen.  She roars in fury and pain as a sword-stroke batters the side of her head, shrinking back to her human form with a surprised look on her face.

Blood drips from newly aggravated wounds first sustained during your battle a few days ago, and her collar blazes with a neon green light that illuminates the night.  She looks past her assailants and at the P.A.R.T.Y. as it approaches, a mournful look in her eyes.

"If only... I'd been allowed to heal...  Ca'lei--," she gasps, attempting to utter words of power.  The familiar beginnings of divine healing magic die on her lips, however, as three more sword strokes hit home.

Cassandra's eyes widen, roll back in her head, and she falls to the ground in a bloody heap.  The collar's light fades as she falls, and is entirely dark by the time she lands.

The semicircle of assailants turns and takes note of the party.

"Aw, blazes, Clem.  First the lost job, then the druidess, and now the Flame!  This just ain't our day..."

"Don' leave nay witnesses," the dwarf poised atop the cart grunts, the swarm dissipating after Cassie's fall.  He adjusts the nozzle toward the P.A.R.T.Y.  "Na even th' Flame."

The four humans, weapons still drawn, advance menacingly on the party.

~~ Combat Setup ~~

The dwarf is a good 10 feet off the ground from his perch, though you could reach the cart itself in a single movement action.  The swordsmen, as well, are each a movement action away, as are Cassie and Chomper's equally limp forms.

The swordsmen will be following Mook Rules, so a single point of damage will stop them, though they get a chance to avoid damage from AOE attacks.

~~ Initiative ~~
Maeve: 21
Lyriel: 18
Giles & Shep: 14
Keef: 12
Swordsmen: 10
Boreas: 9
Clem: 7
Zuriel: 1
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:14, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Lyriel, see if anything can be done for Cassie and Chomper.  Boreas, you, Giles and Keef try and take out that bastard on the cart.  Zuriel and I can handle these schmucks.  I hope.

Maeve stands protectively in front of the fallen druid and wolverine and waits for the swordsmen to make the first move.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:26, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

"ENOUGH!" bellows Zuriel. "This entire this is a complete misunderstanding. Allow us to heal the injured parties and leave, and we can all go about our way without further bloodshed. As a show of goodwill we will heal your injured as well."

Zuriel's eyes narrow as he regards the limp forms of Cassie and Chomper, and his hand tightens on his drawn longsword. "Continue fighting, however, and we will show no mercy."

[Diplomacy: 31 (Natural 20)]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:33, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 219):

~~ Suspend (End?) Combat ~~

"Is it?" the dwarf responds, adjusting the settings on his protective goggles with one hand.  "Awful rare ta see th' Flame out here, an' yet, yer tha second we've 'eard of today.  I'm thinkin' yer one and tha same, which means yer poaching me and the lads' honest work fer spare coin."

The swordsmen make no sign of sheathing their weapons, though neither do they advance for the moment.

"Aye, but business is business.  If ye be willin' ta fork over the fees we lost today, an' a little extra for damage to the cart and to my men during this little outburst with what I c'n only assume is a friend of yers, p'haps we could put this all b'hind us. Whaddaya say? And not a step closer 'til we've got a deal."
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:38, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Zuriel speaks in conciliatory but urgent tones, "Listen, we're not out to poach your work. Ruck approached us, told us about the infestation, and offered us store credit if we fixed it, which we did. We don't have coin to give. We're sorry if we infringed on your work, but its not worth losing lives over, which is what will happen if you don't let me attend to this druid. We can sort out the rest later.

[Diplomacy: 31 (Natural 20)]

Zuriel deliberately sheaths his sword and walks over to Cassie, kneeling beside her and healing her.

[Lay on Hands: 9]
This message was lightly edited by the player at 19:46, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 221):

"Hell hath no fury like a pest exterminator scorned."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 221):

"Now wait jus' a minute, Flamebringer," Clem argues.  "Ruck said a group o' pest-control folk came and accepted the job. Like it were clear he was waitin' fer someone specific.  We argued o'er it for near an hour!"

He ponders the gruesome scene on the trail, then the various P.A.R.T.Y. members, who outnumber his rag-tag team.

"If ya ain't got coin, the fight's nay worth our time."

One of the swordsmen objects, stabbing a sword at the fallen forms of their colleagues near Chomper.

"But they what about them?  They aren't gonna just walk it off, Clem!"

The dwarf nods.

"Aye, we did lose three in the initial conflict.  I s'pose that's a measure of savings on headcount for this venture."

"What?! Clem, you can't possibly--"

"Could always make it four," the dwarf responds, shutting the man up abruptly.

"Get out o' our way, an' we'll leave ye alone," Clem says, motioning the swordsmen to return to the cart (after looting their fallen colleagues' bodies, of course).

Assuming no one stops them, the cart and the men meander further down the trail and out of sight, leaving behind a clearing littered with bodies, blood, and gore.

***

Cassie's eyes snap open at the paladin's touch, and she coughs up blood while sputtering for breath.  Lyriel rises from her crouched position over Chomper and shakes her head sadly at Zuriel, who is thus far blocking Cassie's ability to view the creature's body.

"You don't have to say it," she whispers hoarsely.  "I already know."

She swiftly utters words of power as her collar flares to life once more.

"Ca'leithinel!"

<Casting (Cure Moderate Wounds)>

Green light washes over her, and a large portion of her wounds vanish.  Rising, she runs over to Chomper's body and hugs it tightly to her, sobbing.

This continues for a long while, after which she composes herself enough to carefully buries his remains in the softer ground just off the trail.  A few whispered words, and flowers sprout above the gravesite.

This necessary series of tasks completed, Cassie turns to warily regard the P.A.R.T.Y. -- her eyes narrowed to slits.

"Give me one good reason why you let those bastards go, Flamebringer. Can't you feel Nature's agony everywhere that canister touched? Can't you see what they did to Ch... to the wilds?  They slaughter Nature's wonders for a living.  They are a blight!  They should be purged..."

[Crossroads]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:29, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Boreas emerges into the clearing to find the cart rolling away, leaving a deep rut and a stinking cloud in its wake.  His eye flares as he sees Chomper's bloody body on the ground.

There isn't one.  Our past isn't an issue now.  Let's get these bastards.  Anyone who wants to help, come on.

Using the foliage for cover, Boreas stalks after the cart.  He readies a flask of oil as he follows.

[Hide 25 (natural 20)]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:15, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Maeve looks from the weeping Cassie to the wolverine's grave to the withered leaves.  Coming from a desert environment, it seems a shame to her to have destroyed anything green.

I'll cover you, she says to Boreas. but I'd prefer not to have to shed blood unless things are really not going your way.

Zuriel looks at Cassie sadly. "I did see. I saw what they did to you and Chomper. I stopped the initial confrontation because if I hadn't there would have been no opportunity to get to you two in time. As it was..."

He pauses a while, looking at Cassie's grief stricken and infuriated face. "However, now that the initial misunderstanding is over, the facts of the matter are much more clear."

He looks at the dead, ruined earth where the chemical seeped. "I highly doubt they have a license to be dealing in such toxic chemicals. There are much less damaging ways to prune back nature where it encroaches unwanted. Let's pay these fine gentlemen a visit regarding the sustainability of their business practices."

Zuriel smiles faintly, draws his sword, and extends his hand to help Cassie up from Chomper's grave.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:41, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

Maeve nods at Zuriel's thoughtful words.

I still haven't made a decision about you, Cassie.  But I can tell that you truly loved your friend, and you make a mean pumpmition pie. She cracks a wry smile.  Both of those count for a lot in my book.  We'll see that Chomper is avenged, one way or another.

With that, she vanishes into the woods after Boreas.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:35, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Maeve (msg # 227):

Lyriel looks towards the weeping Cassie saddened by all that had just taken place, There was no call for them to behave as thus, and it has caused you a great loss. Not to mention the harm they are causing to the environment, I will gladly help you Cassie.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 228):

So to be clear, NOW we're murderous arbiters of justice? Because I was a murderous arbiter of justice in the vaults and you all took it VERY poorly.

Do you folks perhaps come with a field guide I could peruse?

Alas, Sir Giles will aid you in your quest to right the wrongs done to the noble Chompers- an enemy to no man who did not deserve it, and a friend to many more.

Strange. They show no concern for the ailing boy. Perhaps he'll need my gift after all. The moon's getting larger. Soon now. Soon it won't matter.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

"We're not murdering anybody if they cooperate, Giles." Zuriel calls back. "Let's make that clear upfront. But their disregard for general safety is a public concern. Incidentally Cassie, did they just attack Chomper on a whim?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:52, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 230):

Cassie makes a face.

"Of course not.  He was supposed to sneak in, take a look, and sneak out.  Apparently they took the rustling of a woodland creature in the brush as a personal affront."

In reply to DM (msg # 231):

And when you're a bunch of drunk pest exterminators, who hasn't made that mistake.

Truth be told Zuriel, we did, you did, lie to the man about being the exterminators. We did misrepresent ourselves, resulting in the fatal wounding of Chompers.

I suppose your words from earlier ring true about evil things bgeatting evil things.

"The wounding of Chomper was completely unrelated to the extermination incident.They attacked Cassie and Chomper of their own volition; they had no idea Cassie and Chomper were involved with their lost contract. Now, the issue becomes their destructive business practices."

Zuriel shrugs. "I appreciate your attempts to muddy the waters for your own amusement Giles, but if you don't have anything constructive to say, just give it a rest already."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 233):

The exterminators were out, looking for us, having heard we took the job. They were out for a fight, because of us.

I muddy not waters for amusement, and find it altogether distasteful for you to have implied so. Philosophy never muddies. It clarifies.

What the clarity reveals, is an altogether different proposition.

Truly. It matters not. I highlight it simply to fulfill my vital role as the party's conscience in such matters.

"If they were indiscriminately slaughtering wildlife because they were miffed on missing out on a paltry 150 gold pieces, then these aren't people we want tromping about these roads. And that's not even bringing the harm to nature into the equation. Seriously Giles, you aren't anybody's moral compass. You just like hearing yourself talk."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 235):

I don't see why it can't be both?

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 236):

Cassie growls dangerously as she tromps down the trail, surrounded by the bulk of the party.

"Girls! You're both pretty!  Now stop it," she snaps at Giles and Zuriel.  "You did take a job you knew was someone else's, Flamebringer, though in the name of being helpful. Whether that's good or evil is irrelevant to me.  We need to talk about something that actually matters, like our plan for dealing with these BUZZKILL pests.  The toxins in that tank looked potent, and I wouldn't want to be exposed to them if we can avoid it. You two can continue your oh-so-attractive philosophical arm wrestling match afterward."

In reply to DM (msg # 237):

I much preferred to think of it as verbal dick-waving.

Come then, let's chase down the now consensus identified "villains" and let them feel the wrath of our justice.

Zuriel bites off a retort, slightly abashed that Cassie had to be the voice of reason. Answering her question and refusing to give Giles the pleasure of a further response, he changes demeanor to a businesslike overview of the situation, replying "We will ask them to submit their equipment to inspection, and if deemed unduly hazardous, decommissioning. If they refuse, we decommission by force of arms. Chum's hired muscle aren't evil, so give them the opportunity to surrender or flee. I think Chum will be less cooperative. If he turns the liquid on us, I can blast it back at him. This sword can emit and windstorm strong enough to blow back or at least divert the spray. Anybody else have recommendations? Cassie, is this acceptable to you?"

In reply to Giles Thistleworth (msg # 238):

Keef looks back and forth between the arguing party members, clearly confused as to what to do.

He nods at Zuriel's suggestion.  Take their evil tools, use the flats of our blades and turn them out by their ears!

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 239):

Cassie nods, her pretty blue eyes flashing with anger in the moonlight.

"Sure, paladin.  But you heard the man -- he's unlikely to take well to decommissioning."

In reply to DM (msg # 241):

The P.A.R.T.Y. advanced down the road, tailing after the loud creaking of the ponderous wagon.  Before long, you have caught up enough to glimpse the cart's rear as it travels down the trail.  The path isn't wide enough to pass by, and so you are at an impasse unless you wish to obviously overtake the vehicle or attempt to slip around via the dense foliage.

Boreas, having left before the others, is keeping pace with the cart, hidden in the foliage.  When it becomes difficult to pass, he scales trees easily to get over.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 243):

Flame arrow, into the poison. It'll blow the whole thing up and we won't risk any injuries to the party.

Giles pantomimes loading and firing an arrow.

It could be over that quickly. Just say the word.

Seeing the others approaching, Boreas scales a tree, emerald pulsing with rage and energy, and fires a blast at Clem

[Ranged Touch 8]

which just misses his head and flies past harmlessly.

Boreas ducks behind the foliage for cover, hoping the others will close the distance.

He calls to the horses

Hold friends!  I mean you no harm.  I'm here to set you free!

[Wild Empathy 11]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:27, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Zuriel considers Giles' plan. "Too risky. That is a lot of collateral damage to people and the environment if the tank is flammable. Let's hold off and try to minimize exposure to this stuff. A wind shield is our best bet here. Let's not explode anything unless there is no other choice to prevent further harm."

Zuriel swears as he sees Boreas' energy beam fly over Chum's head. He hails the cart, making sure he is ready to bring up a windstorm should Chum decide to turn the hose on the party.

"Hold Chum. The Druid has told us that the chemical you're using is highly toxic to the environment. I wonder if you have a license to utilize such a compound? At any rate, we need to discuss your business practices of arbitrarily killing creatures you encounter in these woods."

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 245):

Keef grips the Everstaff nervously and watches what his companions do.

A faint reddish shimmering flickers around his body.

[Private to GM: Mage Armor]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:30, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 245):

"Woah there!" Clem barks as the bolt flies past his head.  "We've got comp'ny, lads!"

The dwarf's fingers fly over the tank, and the nozzle hisses softly in his hands.  His men draw their swords and look around for additional targets -- perhaps ones in range of a swordstroke.

~~ Positioning ~~

The wagon takes up the entire trail; it will take a double-move action to inch past it or climb over it.  Everyone except Boreas is a double-move action from the cart at the moment anyway.  All four men are in front of the cart, near the horses, and the dwarf is standing on top of the tank.  The only target in line of sight for you (except for Boreas) is Clem himself and the rear of the wagon.

Zuriel's noble words either go unheard or fall upon deaf ears -- it's hard to say.  Clem's attention is fixated on the treeline, where Boreas is perched.

The horses, for their part, don't even bother to reply -- they are unable to crane their necks high enough to see the speaker, anyway.

~~ Initiative ~~

Keef 23
Giles 21
Lyriel 21
Boreas 19
Zuriel 19
Mooks 16
Maeve 16
Clem 10
Cassie 8
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:33, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 245):

See! He gets to shoot first and ask questions second! He tried to snipe that guy in the head with a freaking laser blast, but you continue to give me crap for one arrow I shot.

I think you're all hypocrites biased against Sir Giles, and I'm sick of it. Will you be chastising Boreas for not asking for their surrender prior to trying to laser blast someone's head off. I bet you won't! HYPOCRITES!

Sir Giles fires an arrow in the direction of the poison tank and apparently nefarious exterminators who have the gall to be upset that the party paladin lied to them and will accept no responsibility for it by continuing to paint with an ambiguous brush of gray which never extends to Sir Giles due to the paladin's own private prejudices and tactical nonadherence to the doctrines of his faith.

He'll be the first to go when the moon is full. No one slights Sir Giles and lives to tell the tale.

[Shoot 19]
[Damage 9]

Zuriel swears again at the ensuing violence. "You aren't wrong, Giles, and you can be damn sure I'm going to be having words with Boreas when this clusterfuck of a night is over."

To the swordsmen he calls out, "Lay down your arms for the duration of the inspection and you need not be harmed. Boreas, gods dammit, we don't shoot first and ask questions later!"

Maeve for her part hangs back at the edge of the clearing, Lyriel and Keef nearby.

Stay close to me, Keef, she cautions the youngster. I wouldn't advise charging into this.  Aim for the tank, but be careful!  We don't want to unleash a flood of poison in the woods.

[OOC: Maeve will remain on readied action for now, and will attack only if one of the party, particularly Keef or Lyriel, is injured.]

In reply to Maeve (msg # 251):

Lyriel steps up beside Zuriel and addresses the exterminators, We still have some issues here that we need to resolve, I suggest that you all stop so that we can talk about what it is you are using to rid the area of pests. Be forewarned that if you don't we may have to resort to continued force. Now why don't we discuss this like civilized people.

She whips her head in the direction of Boreas and Giles, As for you two, what the hell were you thinking, and how did you think it would help us to accomplish our goal?

[Diplomacy: 23 nat 20]

[ooc: I plan on casting something if I get any crap from the exterminators, I just figured I would try diplomacy first]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 252):

Clem shakes his head, still unable to hear Lyriel clearly until she moves closer.  Still, he gets the gist.

"Yer not on tha same page, lass.  Ye got a mage o' some kind hurling fire from the treeline, and more fancy words ta follow.  We were square, ye an' me, but the time fer talk is over.  Git outta our way, or by Thunder, ye've a fight on yer hands."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:41, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Hearing Clem's words, Boreas' rage ignites further.  He slides ten feet down the tree, gracefully landing on the ground, and looses another blast at the dwarf.

[Ranged Touch Attack 23]

[Damage 5]

It strikes him on the shoulder, causing him to reel back for a moment.  Boreas ducks back behind the tree trunk, taking cover, with a few feet of thick undergrowth between him and the exterminators.

Zuriel brandishes his sword in a defensive posture. "No! We don't want to target the tank! Aim for Clem if you must, but if the tank goes off the poison will either explode or splash everywhere, further damaging people and nature. That's a really bad idea under any ideology. Except maybe yours, Giles, but still, hold off on it. Try not to get in range of the sprayer, let them come to us, and then we'll deal with the lackeys non-lethally. It's Clem who is primarily responsible for this devastation. Cassie, please hold back! We need to be smart about this or it's going to end in tears for everybody involved. We have bows, let's use them wisely.

Zuriel readies a gust in case Clem attempts to spray in their direction.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:35, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 255):

Clem reels from the blast he took to the shoulder, and cranks the nozzle into action.  A column of disgusting liquid spews forth in Boreas's direction, splatter through the foliage like a bucket of water through a sandcastle.

This is essentially a cone attack.

[Reflex (Boreas): 15]

Boreas's quick reflexes minimize his exposure to the chemicals, but he is unable to avoid all of it.

[Damage: 7]

The tree on which the woodsman is perched makes a horrible creaking sound, and the trunk sags under Boreas's weight.

The swordsmen run toward the tree, carefully avoiding the stream of poison while getting ready to deal with what they assume to be Boreas's impending fall.

Cassie utters words of power beneath her breath, inaudible, and you could swear you hear a crack of thunder reverberate in the distance.

Readied actions? Use 'em or lose 'em.


~~ Round Two! ~~

Keef 23
Giles 21
Lyriel 21
Boreas 19 (HP: MAX-7)
Zuriel 19
Mooks 16
Maeve 16
Clem 10 (HP: MAX-5)
Cassie 8 (HP: ??)
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:50, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

In reply to DM (msg # 256):

Keef looks at his companions, but seeing that they are holding his ground he follows suit for the moment and puts aside his dreams of charging boldly into battle.

I can stop this he mutters.

Keef extends one hand and wiggles his fingers toward Clem.  A tiny firework crackles over Clem's face and there is a loud BOOM! as if from a tiny explosion directly on top of the Dwarf's face.

[Private to GM: Cast Shatter on Clem's goggles: HORAY KEEF!]

In reply to Keef (msg # 257):

Clem yelps with surprise as his goggles unexpectedly explode on his face.  A moment later, those noises are replaced by an agonized scream as the toxic fumes splattering from the nozzle in Boreas's direction make contact with his eyes.

He flails at the nozzle's controls, but in his panic, the toxins spray absolutely everywhere -- largely making things worse.

The swordsmen scream in agony as the toxin sears through their clothing, eventually falling silent as they tumble to the ground.  The horses whinny and nay, bucking against the structurally damage yoke until it breaks -- freeing them to hurtle down the path haphazardly.

Clem himself finally manages to get the nozzle under control and shut off, but the effort (or perhaps the toxins at work) has taken its toll.  Blisters and chemical burns cover his face, and he wobbles for a moment before toppling from the wagon and into a shallow pool of hazardous material.

The dwarf lands heavily, unflinching, and you know before you even approach him that his spirit has fled the mortal coil.

~~ END COMBAT ~~
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:32, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Boreas emerges from the foliage near the rest of the party, keeping his distance from Keef and his red aura.

That was... Keef, are you alright?  We need to stop that hose from spraying and contain that stuff before it causes more damage!

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 259):

Whoops.....

Keef hustles to help turn off the hose.

Chubbs glares at the boy.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:39, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Boreas nocks an arrow, taking aim for the hose, and fires, attempting to pin it to the cart and keep it from spraying wildly.

[Ranged Attack 21]

The arrow pierces the end of the hose and sticks in the side of the cart.  While the foul liquid keeps gushing out, the hose is no longer flailing and splattering the trees with the noxious brew.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 252):

"I was thinking shoot first and ask questions later ma'am. As you'll recall, I rather explicitly asked for a handbook on party mentality and acceptability of violence, which was not provided. As Boreas is the defacto party leader, I took his initiative as a sign to dive into battle. Comments?"

We have bigger concerns than a morality debate right now, Giles.  Does anyone know how to shut off that thing?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 263):

Keef raises his hand and points at the hose.  Tiny red sparks shoot from his thumb to his fingertips.

OUCH! 

[Private to GM: Mage Hand spell failed]

Keef frowns and tries his other hand.  Again there are red sparks and Keef shakes his hand in pain.

OUCH!

[Private to GM: Unseen Servant Spell Failed]

Keef looks disappointed, but only shrugs.  He wanders into the woods a bit.

To the others:

We need to shut that thing off somehow.  I'm counting on you all.  Cassie, can you do anything?

Boreas follows Keef, keeping a respectable distance but not letting him out of his sight.

Zuriel trots over to the leak with Cassie, taking care not to step in any puddles. "Fine, but after this I think we all need to have a very frank talk about what happened here tonight," Zuriel calls after Boreas. He surveys the piles of dead bodies actively dissolving into the poisoned dirt with a saddened, weary expression. "This was a tragedy on many, many levels, and I want to avoid anything like this in the future." He attempts to shut off the valve.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 266):

Zuriel is able to carefully shut off the flow of toxins from the tank with a series of sturdy twists.  Dead and dying plant and animal matter have mixed with the fumes to create an awful stench, but it does not appear to be more disorienting than similarly foul odors you've experienced in your time.

The danger, it seems, has passed.

Zuriel looks at Cassie. "That will hold for now. Do you have any idea how we can decommission these toxins permanently? If we leave things here like this, like as not it will leak out before long. I shudder to think the impact that would have on the woods. And we should do something about the bodies, or what's left of them anyhow."

The paladin surveys the devastation with a sinking heart.

Goddess, this has been an absolute nightmare. How in the Nine Hells did it come to this? What did we do wrong? Was there even anything we did right?

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 268):

Cassie seems at a loss for a moment, then she rolls up her sleeves.

"The puzzle has a straightforward solution -- something that's been eluding me for years."

She utters series of words of power in rapid succession, and the world around you springs to life in obedience to her commands.

[Casting: Plant Growth]

Vines, briers, and underbrush burst forth from every angle, obscuring the trail and the winding around the damaged trees as they absorb pools of toxic material in and around the path.  Once the poison has been removed from the environment, she motions toward the center of the mass and whispers additional invocations.

[Casting: Neutralize Poison]
[Casting: Remove Disease]

The newly formed plants shudder and writhe, but ultimately regain much of their original coloration, springing back from dead and dying shades of brown to healthier yellowish-greens.

Satisfied but exhausted, Cassie falls to her knees.  Tears fall unbidden from her cheeks, and she unabashedly dissolves into tears, which leave dirty streaks across her cheeks as she gasps raggedly for air.

Heedless of your stares or of whatever else remains to be done, she sits back on her legs, rocking slowly as she vents her pent-up frustration, sorrow, fear, and rage in the middle of a freshly formed clearing, surrounded by a P.A.R.T.Y. of her enemies, but also by her greatest ally -- the forest itself.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:25, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Maeve is struck by a sudden desire to be alone after all of the shit that has just occurred.

I'm going to go and see if I can find the horses.  They won't have gone far she says quietly, before lighting the coldfire torch and slipping off down the trail after them.

[OOC: I won't try and stop anyone who wants to come with, but I'm not going to ask for company either.]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:03, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Zuriel looks on in awe as Cassandra commands the true, untainted power of the forest before collapsing to her knees, weeping.

The paladin approaches her tentatively. From his pack, he produces the cuffs they had been using to bind her. Standing before her, he deliberately severs the leather with his sword before dropping the strips to the ground at her knees. He places what he hopes is a comforting hand on her shoulder, extending the other to her in friendship. His expression is solemn  as befitting the circumstances, but even from afar there is no mistaking the genuine warmth and happiness in his eyes.

Thank the Goddess! Perhaps there is yet good that has come of this awful night.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: Detect Evil shows, for the first time, a separation between the collar -- which is evil -- and Cassandra, who does not appear to be.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:05, Wed 23 Oct 2013.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 271):

Keef, after taking a walk alone among the corpses and wreckage, finds a small alcove between two large trees to sit in.

He sits cross-legged, though with his awkwardly proportioned limbs he looks much like a constipated spider, with the Everstaff balanced across his knees.  Chubbs hops over and croaks quietly while Keef turns his sword and watches the light dance across its tarnished surface, lost in thought.

In reply to Keef (msg # 272):

"Am I the only one concerned she's apparently casting magic in our presence now? And also, Holy shit."

Boreas, hanging back, stays in the general area, watching for anything particularly unusual about Keef.

His emerald eye focuses its attention on the magical auras surrounding Keef, noting that they appear to be unchanged from the last time he checked.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:05, Wed 23 Oct 2013.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 274):

Your Original Campsite

Maeve finds the horses huddled in terror in the small clearing you were using as a campsite less than an hour ago.  They have trampled over quite a bit of the goods you left behind, but nothing that can't be mended by a tailor and some laundering.

The BUZZKILL Clearing

The danger seems to have passed, leaving you with an abandoned wagon filled with toxins and quite a few half-dissolved bodies to deal with.

Maeve slowly and carefully approaches the two horses who, despite being unharmed by the toxin, are nonetheless shaky.

حصان جيد، وهذا هو حصان جيد she croons softly, murmuring nonsense words in a Gaelian dialect.

One of the horses, still panicky, snorts in irritation at the presence of a stranger and shies away, but the second horse, a bay gelding, calms down enough to let Maeve stroke its snout.

هذا كل شيء، ما ولدا طيبا she says with praise.  When the animal has calmed sufficiently, she climbs up on its back and attempts to coax the second horse into followings its friend.  Still jittery, it snorts and canters off down the road.

Maeve silently wishes it well and turns her horse down the trail back to the clearing where she left the P.A.R.T.Y.

Whenever Keef finishes his meditations in the woods, Boreas returns to the others.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 277):

Cassie takes the paladin's outstretched hand and allows him to help her stand.  Composing herself, she takes stock of the situation.

"We... we will need to do something about the tank," she says hoarsely.  "And about the deceased."

Maeve comes trotting along not long afterward, looking quite pleased with herself from atop her new steed.

I agree, Cassie.  Though I'm not sure how we can neutralize the entire tank's worth.  Any ideas?

Turning to Maeve,

I see you've returned, and with one of the horses!  Couldn't get the other one to come?  I'm sure it will find its own way.

To the horse,

Thank you for coming back with us.  I know it must be hard, seeing your old life spread out like this.  What is your name?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 279):

"I suppose we could try to dilute it with water," she shrugs.  "But I can't be sure.  The Master was an accomplished alchemist, but I didn't pay as much attention to the craft as I should have."

The horse whinnies slightly.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "Wes."]

Zuriel glares at Boreas before addressing Lyriel. "I don't think we can help much with the poison, but you and I can at least see to it that these folks are given a proper burial." He looks at the state of the bodies. "On the second thought, a cremation may be more appropriate under the circumstances. Boreas, we need to talk once we're done here. For now though, we have more pressing concerns. How is Keef holding up? I'm worried about him."

Zuriel sets about assembling a funeral pyre for the remains, as well as a marker stone for each fallen soldier. Upon finishing the pyre, he carefully moves the bodies onto the pyre and waits for Lyriel to begin performing the final cleansing rituals.

Wes, a pleasure.

Boreas surveys the devastation.

Water is probably the best we can do.  Do you have any magic that can get us some in useful amounts?  Nature has a way of dealing with even the harshest contamination over time.  This area will recover.

As for Keef, he was lost in thought for awhile, but his aura is unchanged, so at least he isn't getting worse... for now.

Boreas helps prepare the bodies for burning as best he can.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 282):

Are there not local rangers or druids charged with the health of these woods? Could we not alert the more nature based local authorities to the trauma and call on them for support?

I'm just suggesting that this may not be our problem to solve. ..Nor should we want it to be, as it will come with a handful of questions relating to the circumstances of the exterminators premature demise.

I know you don't always like my advice, but this is a Sir Giles scenario if I've ever heard one. Cut bait gentlemen.

Wes, you say?  A good name.

Maeve dismounts and rubs the horse's nose before securing him to a tree by his reins,  cooing to the now placid animal.

Boreas, please tell Wes here that I am sorry we did not meet under better circumstances, but that I do hope that we shall become good friends.

Maeve turns to survey the damage.

Zuriel, are you quite sure that burning is the best way to go?  We don't know how fire will react with this substance; it might just end up releasing a poisonous gas, and that would be even more difficult to contain.