Once back at the village Volsh found himself a strong drink and looked through the loot they had found.

Dellas goes to try on his new adornment. 



"And you have the gratitude of all of us," Eldest Kine says, and nods solemnly at Volsh.  "Your words seem to have given it another direction to go, instead of sinking into thoughts of revenge or sadness.  No darkness will linger where it once lived.  We may have lost our animals, but we will raise new ones in time.  The kobolds are gone, the Spirit of Air is gone, and the Stone Tree still has us under its protection.  You've given us a future without fear."  She smiles at all of you, and rises to brush each of your brows with a bit of fern, murmuring a blessing.

She ends that with going to a table on the far side and returning with a basket packed with small stoppered dried gourds.  "This seems small enough for what you have done for us.  These are for your healing.  There's a round dozen here, with our thanks.  What the kobolds had in their caverns, I hope they serve you well."

She turns to Haazheel, looking around for Dellas before just continuing to talk to the last wizard still standing.  "The golden liquid you found?  That is godsblood, from where the Spirit of the Air was wounded.  It's a powerful thing, and I would use it with care.  But it may allow you to do things that would be beyond your reach or power otherwise.  If others know you have it, they might try to take it from you.  I would recommend care in who you show it to, if anyone."



Eldest Kine nods.  "He may have felt he was strong enough to take on the danger alone, or felt he was destined to do it.  Or maybe the bards of yore wrote the companions out of the story; certainly it sounds more dramatic to have fought off a great evil alone.  The armor shows no terrible damage, so who knows how the story ended?  Did he die of poison breath or tainted scratch?  The diseases of the swamps?  Or did he slay that great evil and then choose to live out his life here?  I have no magic to see into the past, so I suppose it will just remain a mystery."

With that, Eldest Kine will leave you to dine on hearty stew, fresh greens, piquant sauce, and rough chunks of hot bread.  Ale and berry juice and clean water are on hand to drink, and bowls of fresh berries are there for a sweet ending to the meal.

While you eat and rest, you feel a distinct warmth in your feet, even though the rush mats that cover the floor.  It's the regard of the Stone Tree, and it seems to be thanking you as well for all the good you've done.

Dellas is still missing from the table and hears little to nothing about any of this.

Narthian takes an interest in the cat figurine. "Dellas, did you say that this was magical? I have heard stories of great druids who would imbue such things with the spirits of their companions. I wonder if this could be such a thing?" Before he gets an answer, he says the word written on the bottom, rolling the r's as if he were a cat rubbing against his master's leg. "Prrrow."

Averdante had moved back out of the way to let the others pack up the rest of the chest's contents in favor of giving the statuette a closer look. "Prrrow" looked more like a word associated with the creature the statuette represented than some crafter's name. The cat's name, perhaps?

Or had the figure been locked away in the chest because it was enchanted -- and had the command word written right on its underside?

There was an easy way to find out... or at least to test that theory. However, Dante thought it might be best to wait until they were back outside to do so. After all, it could be a trap, too; his luck having run that way in recent weeks. If the cat were enchanted to attack whomever said the supposed command word, he wanted room to fight the thing.

So he carried the statuette back outside, and most of the way back to the village, before stopping at a comfortably sized open area and letting the rest of the group get a ways ahead of him. He could catch up easily enough.

He didn't want to do this experiment in the village in case it was a trap. The thought did make him hesitate, once he'd put the cat on the ground... but curiosity, as usual, won out. "Prrrow."

On the way back to Fen-on-the-Fen



Averdante speaks the word, and waits.  In a second, there's a ripple over the cat's form, and then the cat uncurls from its pose, leisurely stretching from nose to tailtip.  While still make of blue stone, the cat moves with lifelike grace, the markings in the rock now patterns in its fur.  Its eyes gleam, wetly alive, as it fluffs up its whiskers.  It turns to look at Averdante (in that sideways, casual way of all felines), licks a paw, and then settles at Averdante's feet, tailtip twitching, occasionally grooming some part of itself, seemingly waiting for some further action or word.

---

Present



Dellas goes off to a quiet corner to play with his new toy. 

Between a scroll Haazheel has, some help from Eldest Kine, a bit of experimentation, brainstorming, appraising, and just some good old-fashioned math, you all can determine the following about the treasure you pulled out of the swamp.



The puffball mushrooms are soaked in golden godsblood, so they could have some powerful properties if properly used.  The golden feather is a sign of divine power - this could be used as safe passage with another small god, as a shield against hostile divine magic, as a sacrifice or petition to a greater deity, or possibly other divine-related uses.



The 6 green vials are antitoxin.  The gold one is a potion of restoration.  The red one is a potion of bull's strength.  The blue one is a potion of invisibility.  The three teal are expeditious retreat.



Heavy and well-crafted, it would probably fetch up to 200gp.



Want to grow your own phantom fungus?  You could, given the right conditions.  That does not guarantee it wouldn't try to eat you.



Masterwork full plate, and due to the materials of its construction (red dragon hide and phoenix feather dust) the wearer has a fire resistance of 2.



+1 dagger  On a critical hit, the dragon will roar, making the victim have to make a Will saving throw of DC 17 or be dazed for a round.



This piece of artwork is worth 300gp



A rare and ancient style of crown once worn by the desert kings before the Forbidden Lands had that name, this is worth 5000gp to the right collector.



Decently crafted, this is worth 60gp



There are 453 cp, 7864 sp, 391 gp, and 75 ep (electrum are worth five silver).



This is a wand of barkskin (the one targeted gains a +2 to natural AC for 50 minutes) with 22 charges.



This adds damage to fire spells when worn during their casting (adding 1d6 fire damage per level of spell cast), provided it has been fed with enough spicy peppers (5gp of peppers per level, with a capacity of 15 levels at any one time).



These are a nice little bit of folk art, maybe worth 12gp.



The command word said, it does indeed animate.  What else it does will be subject to your experimentation.



The collection of crystals and colorful stones is worth about 30gp.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:35, Sun 09 Apr 2017.

Before the night was over, some of the more perceptive people who didn't only focus on the banquet, notice a red hot light flaring up for a moment. Shortly after that Dellas' voice is heard, yelling and laughing almost like a madman. He sits back at the table, his eyebrows seem slightly singed. He happily eats and reveals the bracelet they found in the Kobold warren around his wrist.
Suddenly the dragon that's coiled around the bracers gobble up several red hot chillie peppers and quickly rests again. Dellas stops only for a moment before humming happily.

Finding some more or less private time he mentions everyone to get a bit closer "We should leave soon.. and divide our bounty. If you don't mind then I'd LOVE to keep this little baby." He pets his bracer "It's fantastic! hihihi I can't wait to find some Goblins... ehm evil, gods insulting Goblins." He quickly adds with a side glance at his sister.

I'm okay now with moving to Redhaven... We can divide the loot in OOC

In the past
When the crystal cat emerges after Averdante speaks the word, Narthian gasps. "I wonder..." he whispers, approaching Averdante and the mystical cat at his feet. "[Language unknown: Atethuestint areema, arth e ure ndter ersaai e pre eraforent.]" he says in a revered tone, then begins to make noises like the cat.

Fascinated with the stone cat -- and pleased it hadn't promptly attacked -- Averdante crouches down beside it to run a hand over the smooth stone head.

When Narthian questions it, Dante watches to see the cat's response before asking, "So do you have a name, my lovely friend?"

The cat looks at Averdante, then back at Narthian, then back at Averdante.  Then it goes over when Narthain bends over, reaches up carefully, and places a paw over Narthian's mouth.  And then walks back to Averdante.

The cat licks a paw thoughtfully, then scratches in the ground with a paw.  Prreet.  It twines itself around Averdante's ankles and leans into the caresses of it head, before looking up at him expectantly.

Narthian rocks back on his heels at the cat's actions, tries a few more tentative cat-phrases (getting no response), then just looks up at Averdante and shrugs. "Cats."

Watching the stone cat effectively tell Narthian to be quiet leaves Averdante a little bemused. Probably only the person who... brings the cat to "life" can direct it, he guesses. It would make sense; having a magicical device capable of independent action that someone else could take over would likely make it too dangerous to use.

The druid's dry response makes him laugh, though. "Maybe it doesn't like your accent?" he teases the other elf.

His amusement fades into curiosity as he watches the cat write its name in the dirt. If the cat can write, can it read? Just how intelligent is it?

Glancing at Narthian, Dante grins and tells him, "I think I may be here a bit. This is fascinating!"

He drops down to sit beside the expectantly waiting cat and looks again at what it had written on the ground. Guessing that perhaps the doubled "r" indicates a sound like a purr, he tries rolling the "r" sound when he asks it, "Your name is Prreet?"

The cat nods at Averdante, then looks around.  It walks in a slow circle with the sort of rolling, stalking gait a cat uses when it's hunting something.  Then it looks back at Averdante.  Then back out at the swamp.  And back at Averdante.  A cat has no eyebrows to raise, but you definitely get the sense of a question being asked.

Narthian chuckles. "My accent is distinctly canine," he says. Seeing the cat's body language, he adds, "Prreet appears to be pure hunter. He's ready to go find game in the swamp, I think."

"It does," Dante agrees thoughtfully. "Although I'm not sure a swamp is a good place for a hunter made of stone." Did the cat hunt for something specific? Or just any small game? Was that what it was made to do -- hunt small game so it's owner could devote time to other activities?

Well, he can try asking, but first, "Prreet, can you communicate by means other than writing? Can you write more than your name?"

Prreet looks back at Averdante, and you get a clear sense of "no."  It's a distinct feeling from your own, almost as if it were a higher-pitched emotion, like hearing a higher-pitched voice.  Not seeing anything around Averdante wants to seem to hunt, Prreet stalks around him, then with a wiggle, leaps up to land on his shoulders.  It curls around his neck like a flexible stone collar.  As it does, Prreet flexes its claws into Averdante's clothes, and he feels himself seem to relax, his muscles feeling easier and more flexible.

Well, Dante mused, that would make communication a little more challenging. Prreet could readily understand him, but the reverse would need some practice. Lately most of the things he'd been hunting weren't simple prey animals... which maybe he needed to amend sometime soon; it'd be relaxing to just to hunt something for eating.

Still, if it could readily communicate "yes" and "no" as it had just done, then he only needed to learn to ask his question for such answers. He was still thinking about that when the stone cat leapt up onto his shoulders.

That amused him. It was probably behavior built into the enchantment, but it seemed very like the affectionate behavior of a real cat. So did the kneading claws; he winced a little when the sharp claws found skin. Even a stone cat, it seemed, had a knack for that! Dante stilled, though, as a sense of relaxed ease spread over him. Had it done something with it's claws?

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the cat's solid weight shift as smoothly with the motion as if it were merely a heavy cloth, and decided that if it had done something, it hadn't been harmful. He felt fine, maybe even more relaxed. And if it was happy draped across his shoulders, he could ask questions while he walked. Picking up his bow, he stood up gracefully. "I get the feeling it can't write," he told Narthian, "but if it's happy to ride along, we might as well catch up with everyone. I can ask questions as we go."

The one foremost in his thoughts was wondering if, since it seemed able to impress a response in his mind, it could also "hear" if he thought a question at it. That could certainly be useful whilst creeping up on prey, whether they were simply animals or something craftier. Prreet, can you hear me?

The cat taps his ear, and you get a distinct feeling of assent.  And then a sort of questioning feeling, a kind of "what now?"

Pleased with that discovery, and the cat's own expression of inquiry, Averdante answers it,  If they can communicate silently, they could become a very efficient pair of hunters, whether hunting beasts or sapient creatures like kobolds and goblins. The cat would need much less cover than he does.

The cat paws at Averdante's temple, then noses at it with a chilly stone nose. 

The cat takes its nose away from Averdante and cranes its head around to slowly blink at him.

Averdante slows to a stop, eyes unfocused, attention clearly not on where he is. After a minute, he frowns sadly, tears leaking from his eyes. He reaches up to stroke the cat. "You're not just a hunter at all," he says softly, turning his head to look at the cat draped over his shoulders.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Fri 05 May 2017.

The cat purrs quietly on Averdante's shoulder.

"Well, then," Dante says with a pleased smile and a light stroke over the cat's head, "we should have fun together. I hope you like to travel."

Resuming his walk toward the village, he finds he's more cheerful than he's been in a while. While he's made friends with his companions, they are still more comrades in arms than anything truly close to the heart. And while they may become closer with time, he realizes he has grown just a little lonely, so far from home and his own people. Preet has already stepped in to ease that ache, the cat's solid weight over his shoulders a pleasant comfort.

He's looking forward to sharing the road ahead, and the discoveries thereon, with the stone cat. Even the road back to Redhaven will be more interesting; perhaps a few games of hide and seek together, to better learn Preet's degree of sensitivity.

Prreet licks his ear with a raspy cool tongue, the cat's ears up and alert.  He seems entirely pleased.



With a little experimentation, it seems Prreet can range out to about a mile before Averdante can stop sensing him.  And it seems for about eight hours a day, Prreet must spend time in a statue state "sleeping".