A visit to Godswalk Park seeking Eagle finds him gone.  He is in the countryside helping refugees return home without too many difficulties between animals and homeowners.  There are several druids there and they do share that the type of magic used in the Glades and Witchlight is different than most, and mostly similar to druidic magic.

The party sets off to check out the seen of the attack, and after travelling through the unique streets of the Witchlight district they pass through the Western gates into the ramshackled village built into the Witchlight Swamp, wooden structures piled upon one another in places, others connected by piers and bridges, and shallow boats tied up throughout.

A careful walk through these "streets", Heasha leads you to the far edge of the Glades where buildings are farther apart and to a larger structure that serves as both a home and restaurant.  There is no name above the door but a plaque with a spoon and fork carved into it.

ooc: Rath, if you wish to try to heal the lady of her curese, please roll at 100d, you want to roll LOW.

Rath bid adieu to Rose, somewhat apart from the others, offering her a peck on the cheek. His hand lingered on her shoulder. When he rejoined the others, Rath looked away, apparently uncomfortable.

At the Glades, once in a private space, Rath set himself to attempt to remove this strange curse from Heasha. "At a temple, this would be a ritual. I ... uh, I don't know the ritual."

Rath stumbles through an improvised prayer, beseeching Pelor and Avandra for protection from affliction.

OOC: Remove Curse.


13:48, Today: Aldo Rathmus rolled 89 using 1d100.  remove curse.

Folke took in the odd sights of the Witchlight district, refreshing his memories of the place and its strange customs, unique musical style and entertaining (if not eerie) folk story history.  As they passed through the city gates and more properly entered the swamp and within it The Glades Folke felt a different mantle drape over them, as though the mossy trees were putting a sheltering arm about their shoulders.  Only it wasn't really a feeling of sheltering, nothing quite that welcoming.

When they reached the restaurant and home of Heasha the skald gave she and Rath enough space to go about the ritual in some privacy.  While his companion essayed that test Folke instead took in the swampy surroundings and pictured the type of creature Heasha had described rising from the murky waters to trudge inexorably into the home to claim its due.  What might have sounded incredibly fantastic in the Rose and Cricket seemed all too possible standing on the ramshackle planking outside Heasha's home.

Saliq seemed visibly uncomfortable in this place. The humid and fetid air felt oppressive to one born to the desert where lush greenery was the carefully controlled beauty of a palace garden. Still he tried to keep his distress from his face in view of the far greater distress felt by Heasha.

Marissa sits on the border between patience and impatience. Part of her wonders why Rath wouldn't do this in a proper temple. But she trusts the man and bides, turning her attention to the surrounds with a merchant's eye, giving thought to how she could get a toe-hold in such a typically insular community.

Perhaps she'd ask Rath when he was done with his ceremony...

Inas, accustomed to weird places so long as they are outside, appears more curious than anything.

He examines the plants and trees, looking for any oddity that might provide a clue as to the creature that visited their host.

The old restaurant is shabby looking outside but fairly cozy inside.  A quick look around shows that the main level is the restaurant, with two flights of stairs leading up, one from the kitchen, one from the great room.  The stairs from the great room lead up to half a dozen furnished rooms, with another stair leading to the attic.

The back stairs lead up to two small bedrooms and a sitting room, this is where the owners live, taking the heat from the kitchen.  The back door to the kitchen leads to a small dock, there is one shallow boat there.  That door was recently ripped from its iron hinges, it has been tacked back into place but not properly repaired as yet.

The dock shows muddy strange footprints, mud, moss, twigs, in deformed shapes.  Inas looks carefully at them for awhile.  They come straight from the swamp and go directly to the door and then upstairs, to one bedroom and then out.  They knew where they were going, there was no "looking around".  The footprints are from a bipedal, and not much larger than a human man seemingly.

Rath tries to remove the curse on Heasha, but nothing happens.  She smiles rather sadly at him, as if to say, thanks for trying, or perhaps, I knew it wouldn't work. Hard to tell with sad smile.

"I don't know what made these prints but: inside each print is print made by a human.  I'm wondering if the whole thing was a disguise and not something fantastical."

The longer Inas stares at the tracks and the glade beyond, he begins to see a path.  The creatures must have just walked through the swamp, even below it at times but it is thick and their disturbances of the natural order seem fairly easy to track to his eyes.

Rath tries to follow Inas' gaze. He can't make out the path at all, but he doesn't doubt the ranger's skill. "A disguise? Or a transformation." Rath was envisioning a creature almost human at the core, but festooned with mud and moss and planty material substituting for flesh.

Rath pats his belt, then he frowns and says to Marissa, "Damn. I meant to buy daggers for us in Stormhaven." He considers the Glades skeptically. "They must sell daggers here. Right?"

Marissa shows fangs, her smile ironic.

"Already picked one up, Rath," she said. "I'll let you borrow it...for a small fee."

The group spends about an hour in their checking out of the story, and the inn and surround docks.  In the end, the story seems plausible, even likely, based on what they see.  As they are talking in the great room, they notice that just about everyone who was there earlier has left.  They got a pretty cold bunch of stares from most, clearly, they don't like outsiders here.

There is a woman who remains behind, older than the group but far younger than Heasha, who makes a symbol, touching heart and then forhead and then goes and confronts Heasha, words are exchanged, harsh ones, but the woman calms, and speaks in heavy accent of the glades speak for a few minutes before spitting on the ground and turning and leaving.

Rose takes a deep breath, and says,

"She is one of the others who lost someone this week.  Her son.  She said Heasha should not have brought me or you into this.  She said her sons was born blue and dying and she called for the local doctor,  he said it meant to be, the boy would go back into that from which he came.  In her distress, she cried and screamed but in the night when the boy was near death, an old man came to the house, he said little but promised to give him a life for a time, but would one day have need of him, and then, he would be gone.  She believes this was foretold and we should not try to interfere.  She got 21 years of her son, it was fair bargain".

"Any idea who this 'man' is?"

Rose and Heasha speak for a few moments,

"All the stories are different but the same, people in trouble, people from the Glades, who some twenty years ago were approached by a man, and given a new start.  They all say the man was robed, small and seemed very old but none got much of a look at him.  One claims he had a pendant with the carving of antlers on it, but the others didn't see that.  It was long ago".

"I'm no loremaster, but I've heard tales told over firelight of a master of the great hunt. I have a vague recollection of antlers being some sort of sign of his...but when I say vague, I mean a 'bare breath of a newborn's wisp of hair' recollection of the tale."

The day grows long.   Spend the night?  Go look for supplies?  Go home?  Head into the depths of the swamp? Other?

"Do we know how many people this mysterious stranger has gathered, or stands to gather now that the score of years has passed?"  Folke's thoughts went to some sort of rite, or perhaps worse, that might turn these people into swamp creatures.  A twisted druidic magic to guard the swamps?  Or to create a force that could attack settlements?  Dark thoughts indeed.

He hoped Heasha or the other woman might have a sense of the numbers.

Saliq stroked his beard, lozt in thought. "This talk of a man surprises me I admit... I had wondered if a hag was behind this business but I suppose not."

In a quick set of questions and answers, it is learned that at least five people have gone missing with similar stories, just in the Glades.  It is unknown if any in the Witchlight district are so stricken, but likely.  Or even greater Stormhaven is possible.

As the group discusses event, there is the sound of a distant high pitched whistle.  The effects on those few still in the inn are immediate, panic, fear.  Rose quickly talks with her old friend.

"Another attack, going on now, deeper into the Glades. Its a warning call to stay away".

"Yeah?" Rath says, standing and grabbing his gear. "Well, I've been warned. Stay here, Rose. I'll be back."

Rath heads for the door and looks back as his company. "You all coming?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:48, Sat 13 Jan 2018.

Marissa sighs, shakes her head, then stands from the table and makes her way toward Rath.

"You just can't help yourself, can you?"