"In our defense..." Roth begins, a little uneasy at having killed off what seemed to half of this wood's inhabitants, "...It was in our defense."  He gives a meek, halfway charming grin and refrain from mentioning anything about the bear.  They'd realize it soon enough, and he didn't want to take the heat for it.

Shirok examined the pendant that had been tossed to him. He did not recall Owl having worn it, at least not openly. Perhaps it was nothing more then the physical totem to which he had been bound.

"Yes, Owl is gone," he said, taking a few steps forward. Give the remaining guardians a target for any wrath they may feel. "We came across Owl and Bear fighting. Owl fell, and we were unable to save Bear." He left out the details; it would only confuse the matter even more.

"But you must realize that our arrival here has only hastened the inevitable. This sanctuary sickened long ago, and it cannot be healed here."

Neya turned to watch the rabbit-woman and the tiger-man carefully as Shirok stood up to them, but remained standing by Ilsa. She nudged the barbarian and whined a little, trying to distract her from the halfling. He smelled angry, and if they kept pushing it then they would be distracted from maybe having to deal with the strangers.


22:13, Today: Shirok Rezkala rolled 21,11 using 1d20+7,1d20+5. Shirok/Neya Spot.

"Yeah, I don't know why he didn't use his sword, either," Ilsa said, frowning and completely misinterpreting Neya's nudge. "Snake Tongue watch each other," she said, giving the she-wolf a hardy pat on the side of the neck. "Come," she said, turning from the rest of the group and the boring conversation. She broke a thick, dead branch off a tree and held it out for Neya to grab and play tug of war with.

The woman set her jaw as Roth and Shirok spoke; but neither she nor Hyglak took any kind of aggressive or seemingly threatening action against the party.  Criss grunted loudly, spoke the Owl’s name once more, and then stuck his tongue out and spit.  Hyglak seemed be become amused at the outwardly offensive gesture.  Following the display, Criss looked at each one of the adventurers trapped within his grove, and nodded his approval of each one.
“Then you have done what we could not,” the woman says at length, her words drawing an unpleasant scowl from Hyglak.  “You have slain the Owl, as evident by his Guardian Necklace,” she continues, nodding to the chain and pendant still in Shirok’s hand, “and our Master will have you as his champions.”
Hyglak and Criss sit on the logs, and Criss raises the bonfire once more.  The woman retrieves a beautifully crafted lute from under her cloak.  As she does, you all see a stylized rabbit sown into it.  She doesn’t sit, but seem to settle over another log, strumming a few notes from the lute.
“The creature that stalked the Hundred Acer Woods was once a man,” she begins.  “An honorable man and seasoned warrior.  In Tharür’s last days, the Guardians were sent to keep watch and nurture the King’s beloved son, and the Owl among them.  They were sealed within the magical realm of The Wood, thought to be impenetrable from the Necromancer’s dread power.  But shortly after we came here The Backson appeared.
“Seeing this, the Owl, having long lamented for lives of his kin, signed a pact with the devil, and thus was transformed into the beast you slew.  We do not know how the Backson got here, but we believe they are agents of The Necromancer and seek dominion over this realm as they have in our own.  Criss will not allow you to leave his home until that is what is wrong has been set right.”

Garret listened carefully to what the woman, apparently Rabbit, had to say.  He certainly had questions, but was content now to allow the others to ask theirs first.

So you can send us home? But your keeping us here so we can fight your battles for you. Porto says getting a bit annoyed with the whole situation. He didn't like being used. Were you the ones that brought us here?

"First," Shirok said quietly, "If you expect any assistance at all, you will withdraw your threat of keeping us here. You do nothing with it but antagonize those you seem to have a desperate need for.

"Second. Your former kingdom is gone, nothing but a forgotten myth, and I suspect your necromancer has long since fallen to the same fate. You and your ward do nothing here but stagnate and wither, accomplishing nothing and denying what life you have the chance to live. Tell us why we should help you with this."

Shirok was starting to smell a little angry at the rabbit-woman and the tiger-man, the halfling even more so. It was possible that she was going to have to fight them if the anger got any more serious.

However, most of these thoughts became unimportant when Ilsa held up a Stick. Neya clamped her teeth onto it almost immediately, play-growling as she tugged hard upon the wood.

Ilsa exercised her muscles and reflexes tugging and wrestling with Neya. It was more than play--it was how they learned to fight together side-by-side. But it was a lot of fun; the half-orc smiled, growled, snatched her teeth, and laughed with delight. At one point, Neya had her pinned to the ground and the stick, held firmly with both shaking hands, was the only thing that kept the wolf's jaws from her throat. On the ground, Ilsa was no match for the wolf. She said something before biting Neya on the nose.

“What!?” Hyglak barks at Shirok, obviously disgruntled by what the druid had said.  Or maybe it was how he said it.  Which ever the case, the fiery man stands up quickly, his face red with anger.
“Hyglak,” Rabbit says softly, trying to calm him; but to no avail.
“We don’t expect a thing from you, the gods be damned!  No Rabbit,” he says to her, “I won’t hear it!  Not again!  His tone is like Owl’s, condescending and arrogant!  He knows nothing!”  Hyglak stands there, very tense, glaring at the party, Shirok especially.
Rabbit also seems to have stood up.  “It wasn’t a threat,” she states plainly, “The only one who can release us from the Wood is Criss.  Help him or not, it matters little to me.  I’m already dead,” she says with a shrug.  Her last sentence seems to affect Hyglak visibly, but he remains standing and regarding the party members closely.

Rabbit’s last statement seemed to also affect Garret, but for very different reasons.  The cleric had suspected as much, judging from her appearance and cryptic demeanor; but to hear her speak of it plainly… such a declaration seemed to pale the man’s face and chill his nerves.
He hadn’t sensed any evil from her, and didn’t regard her as a threat; but felt she—as well as their entire body of hosts—deserved respect and consideration.  His heart broke a moment later as he fully began to comprehend what exactly her presence here meant: that she had not passed on onto the rewards entitled to her by her patron deity, regardless if she had claimed one.  To be separated from one’s god must demand suffering equal to that of eternal damnation.  He would help Criss, if for nothing else than to assist Rabbit in her passing.
“Please forgive me,” he says stepping forward.  “What do you require of us?” he asks Criss.

At Rabbit's statement the first thing Porto thought was Damn. Not like he expected anything anyway, but the allusion that there was a possibility was still exciting and made him cheerful. Not so much anymore. Figuring that they'd have to help Criss one way or the other to get out Porto lets out a sigh. Besides the tiger seemed to be a little crazy and that made him even more dangerous than originally thought.

"I'm with Shirok on this." Roth says, eying Hyglak and cautiously adjusting his idle grip on the knight's blade--but still not standing from his log.  "Right now you are our captors, kidnappers, hostage takers.  Why should we help you?  I'm more inclined to wait it out."

"I know that you are asking us to restore your own prison, let you hide from a threat that no longer exists by continuing this existence. Why should we help you imprison yourselves?"

“Then wait it out!” Hgylak screams at Roth before Rabbit can address Garret.  After hearing Shirok, Hgylak has apparently had enough.  He sneers angrily before walking away, but not before addressing the party one last time.  “And you all better stay the hell out of my way!”
He crouches down and before your very eyes, he transforms into a tiger!  With incredible agility trademark of such beasts, he leaps away into the darkness; a menacing growl is all that is left behind.

“Please forgive him,” Rabbit says at length, nodding in the direction Hyglak ran off.  “He takes his oath very seriously—we all do,” she says with a frown.  “And this isn’t a prison, it is Criss’s home,” she corrects.  “As much as I tried in life, I cannot speak for him.  You don’t have to help him, but he alone holds the only way out of these Woods.  If we can’t convince you, perhaps the Backson will...”  With that, the beautiful ghost disappears, leaving you alone with Criss.

“That’s Rabbit,” he chuckles as he kicks some loose dirt into the fire.

Once the guardians have left, Roth stands and slides the longsword into the sheath strapped over his shoulder and kicks away his doodles.  Looking around to ensure they are relatively alone, aside from Criss, the young elf suggests to Shirok, "I think there is one more we should visit, and I have a hunch he'll be more useful."

Ilsa heard a growl that came from neither her nor Neya. She paused the wrestling and glanced over at the others. Whatever it was, it wasn't attacking and had gone. In other words, it wasn't her problem. But just in case, she yelled at Shirok in orcish, "Do you need us?"

"We are moving on," Shirok called out to Ilsa as he nodded. "Yes, there is one more. Though if their story is to be believed, then perhaps he may be less useful then we had thought." He glanced around, making sure the others were ready before he pulled out the map once more.

"It is time to hear the other side of this story," he said as he tapped the map, returning to the place where Owl fell.

"Necromancers, imprisoned scions, guardian spirits. We've stumbled into a cheap book of tales."

Stan poked at the fire with a stick, mulling over everything that had been revealed. It was going to be one of those days.

Ilsa sighed. Listening to stories wasn't getting them anywhere. "You heard him," she said with a smirk to Neya. "But don't worry... I have a plan."

"Oh, right, the owl."  Roth says with a bit of surprise as they arrive at Shirok's destination.  He looks the area over before adding, "I meant ... Eor."

The party teleports so abruptly, they barely know it is happening.  They appear in a small clearing just south of the area marked on the map as Bear’s.  The body of the Owl is gone—or more, transformed from what it once was.  Lying in a bed of owl feathers is a man, somewhat portly in proportions.  He wears strange clothing, akin to that of Hyglak’s, and upon his head is a styled helm depicting the noble fowl he had been malformed into.  His eyes and mouth are open, as if he died while screaming painfully.
Catching his mistake, Shirok quickly taps his map once more, teleporting the party to a much different place.  The edge of the wood isn’t like the other places.  It is swampy, dark, and foreboding.  Although swamps are a natural part of Nature, even Shirok feels oppression here.  The good magic that seems to be entwined within the Wood has a darker side, which is equally engrained within this marsh.

"Ugg, I never liked swamps..." Roth comments as he lifts his now slimy foot against the suction of the ground.  He looks around for any sign of life before calling out, "Eor, are you out there?  We've come to help."

Tell me about it. Porto says as his lifts one of his feet out of the muck to so it dripping with gunk.

Ilsa just stood with her arms crossed, her sword on her back and axes on her belt. She snorted and spit. Then she cracked her neck. And yawned.