Azatch just nodded at Tara and Lenelle's logic but didn't say anything more as he watched the wizard's careful handling of the doll and clipping of the hairs with his keen eyes.

As Lenelle spoke, a butterfly fluttered near her. The pastoral beauty of this flowery refuge in the swamp should have pleased her. However, the nagging question of who mimicked Jason/Blackthorn deprived her of any opportunity any appreciate the sweet perfume of the Magnolias, the pink blush of azaleas, the tranquility of water lilies bobbing on the pond. What sounded like a mosquito buzzing nearby only further aggravated her.


With the capable use  of her Mage Hand, Tara avoided contact with the Lichbiriar thorns. She wouldn’t become a host for the rapacious plant. Quickly, she snipped the hairs from the doll. Within seconds, the group heard a joyful shout from with the tent. “He’s awake! Praise the Green Father, Oakleaf is awake!”

"Ingredients can be purchased without needing direct access.  Even something that foul.  The lichbriar could have grown here.

Is Blackthorn awake?  He knows something, even if he isn't allowed to say."

Tara gave a sigh of relief, and set the doll down cautiously, but not touching the ground.

Then she poured every ounce of necromantic energy she could manage with the small spells she knew into it.  Perhaps it might not make a difference, but if a Blight could kill the larger ones, perhaps a Chill Touch would suffice for a few clippings.  It was the same kind of energy, after all.

Lenelle blinked in surprise, attention drawn to nothing that was visible.   Of course, she couldn't help but think of the message she'd seen on that table they'd found...

Her mind skimmed immediately over the people she'd met in Deadwater. Mercion and Joshua she all but ruled out.    She'd wager her soul they were both just who they seemed to be.   Pockets...there was some lingering doubt.  Less than before...but she didn't rule him out.   Connie...maybe.  She'd almost have liked it to be her, she had to confess. That would be neat and clean.  But, instinct said no, that she too was what she seemed.

Miriam...Lenelle's thoughts caught on the woman.  The bitterness that had festered.  Enough for revenge this elaborate, this hideous?  And, that song her daughter had sung...Granny Grim.  Supposedly, mere fiction.  Yet, with this voodoo like magic, Blackthorn's mention of hags in his riddles. Perhaps, she'd mention it to Tara, and Father Oakleaf, if indeed he would speak with them.

She reined her thoughts in, and nodded at Cela's words.  Waiting to see if the druids would permit it.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:45, Wed 28 July 2021.

Azatch grunted when someone shouted about Oakleaf being awake, he walked toward the shout to see if Jason was also awake or just the old arch-whatever.

"Jason! You awake? Believe us now?"

“Blackthorn,” he muttered weakly, but with as much pointedness as he could muster. “Yes, I’m awake. How would I sleep through your bellowing?” With help, he sat up. Both Druids already looked improved, but still needed rest for full recovery. Blackthorn weakly waved the other Druids away. “Let me be. I need to sit up on my own.”

His surliness ebbed somewhat when he saw the Archdruid looking back at him. Blackthorn nodded slowly at Azatch. He coughed to clear his throat and spoke. “You’ve all made your point and earned my cooperation. I will answer any questions that I can.”

"The name of the person at the Tavern.  You collapsed just before talking about him.  Is it something you're not allowed to say?" 

The last word before Blackthorn collapsed started with an H.  Cela thinks it was 'he.'

"If that's right, can you nod your head?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:47, Wed 28 July 2021.

“When I try to speak…yes.” Blackthorn nodded in defeat. “Though I still cannot name the one I suspect,” his face strained as he forced the rest of his words out. “Her.”

“The Barbarian aside, I know that most of you traveled from afar.” Eyes turned toward the old Archdruid who’d just awoken. “You arrive in a time of woe for Deadwater, our Grove, and the swamp where we all reside. I thank you for freeing me from the curse that laid me low this past fortnight. For your help, I offer you welcome within our Grove for so long as you may need it.” Oakleaf spoke in a surprisingly smooth baritone that pleased the ear. His eyes showed an alertness that fought to come back from his long illness.

“Before your arrival, even before my illness, I sensed a Necromantic threat arising from the Swamp. A twisted presence that sought to rend asunder the natural and social order in this area. That malevolent power struck me down before I could confront it. Tho’ I know not exactly who is responsible, I can tell you what my auguries divined.

The threat lies in and near Deadwater.”

"It's not Pockets, at least.  Not so many women when we were there, though we didn't linger.  Most seemed local."  She says

"Oh! Pockets!" she adds excitedly.  "Could you send the message with a sending stone?"

When the archdruid welcomed them into the Grove, Azatch sat down.

"So, a "her" in Deadwater or near Deadwater is the threat huh?" He looked at the others in the group he traveled with. He looked at Tara, "maybe it's Sheila? You came up with the word hag pretty easy there."

"Otherwise who else? That cleric lady?"

"Sheila was in the very same state," Lenelle said to Blackthorn, "when she tried to name the one she suspected of murdering her man.  I'm guessing we may be speaking of the same individual, here." 

"Blackthorn said whoever it was, had become a regular at the Spit," she said to the others. "I think that rules out Mercion."

"So, what about Connie and Bathesda?  Do we know for a fact they're locals?  Surely, Pockets, would be able to tell us."     Her fingers closed about the stone.  "I'll talk to Pockets."

Pockets --  we're definitely looking for a woman, not a 'he,' as I suggested earlier.  Someone not native to Deadwater.  Would that apply to Connie or Bathesda?  Or even Miriam? If she was ever a regular at the Spit?  Or anyone else, off the top of your head?
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:45, Wed 28 July 2021.

Lenelle remembered that a Sending Stone could only be used once per day. She borrowed Sundos’ Stone, and soon heard Pockets pipe up over the Sending Stone. Miriam’s local. Don’t know about the others. Hey…Hey, Hey, HEY! Can’t talk right now! Sundown, and the little girl just wandered into the swamp…!

Suddenly, the Sending cut off. Whether that happened because of the Magic’s limits or something else, Lenelle didn’t know.

Oh, right --  that pesky one day limit!   Once I get back to Deadwater, I'm stopping in at Pockets Cellular to upgrade my plan.
   

Lenelle returned the stone to Sundos, her expression shocked, saying to everyone in general and no one in particular:

"By moon and stars -- Elise has wandered off into the swamp!  What can she be thinking?  Someone's got to find her! Will that foliage open on the way out of here?"   she asked of Blackthorn, or any other druid who could answer.   Plainly, Lenelle was about to leave now and go after the girl.

“The Land only troubles unwelcome intruders. You will find your departure for easier than your arrival on our land.” Before Lenelle could leave, Blackthorn called out. “Wait!” He tried to stand, but his legs wobbled. Marigold and one of the older women helped him lie back down on the hide blankets.

Blackthorn gestured hurriedly toward a simple sodden bowl that held fruit. They brought the tray, and he clinched a handful of blackberries. Closing his eyes, he muttered a prayer in the secret Druidic tongue. “Take these. Eat them if you suffer any injury.” Blackthorn handed them to Grog. (OOC: they’ll function as 5 Goodberry apiece.)
This message was last edited by the player at 03:25, Thu 29 July 2021.

"Well, I think our general course is clear enough," said Tara.  She didn't know all of these people, but it seemed simple enough to go along with whatever plan the others devised.

"Give me a little time, and I can reliably sense necromantic magic nearby," she added.  "That might help.  It's got a distinctive... smell.  Color.  Something like that."

Finding the right words to describe how her spells worked with such things was a little tricky to explain, but the results were clear enough.

"There's something like that here," Lenelle turned to assure Tara, nodding, "Atop the weave of the druid's magic.  I can 'smell' it."

“If you are go back to fight the architect of our sorrows, then you will need what advantages we can offer you.” Oakleaf motioned for the women near him to bring him a javelin that leaned across from his pallet. He beckoned Azatch to approach. “This humble javelin aided me against the Lizardman Shaman who tried to seize our land. I am not in any condition for a fight today. I would prefer this in the hands of a local son who could have joined us, if the Seasons had changed differently. Use this well.” (OOC: It’s a Javelin +1.)

Then, one of the women whispered into Oakleaf’s ear. He nodded with a satisfied smile. The Archdruid motioned for Lenelle to come forth next. “It has come to my attention that the Elf-blooded Lady has garnered…special favor…from the Land. May the sun shine as brightly upon you as your kindness has shone upon others.” He handed Lenelle a simple wooden ring entwined with evergreen vines, and adorned with a single rose petal. “The Band of The Dryad will heal whomever you touch once per day.” (OOC: 2d4 +2 HP once per day.)

Meanwhile, Marigold slipped two small objects into Cela’s hands. “They’re not much, but I hope these can help you.” She smiled shyly at the Tabaxi. (OOC: 2 Darts +1.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:29, Thu 29 July 2021.

Azatch stowed his battle axe that had been at the ready since Sundos had first detected the evil stench of the first doll and walked up to the archdruid. He said nothing but nodded when the javelin was offered to him and took it.

"I'll kill our enemies with this or die trying, thank you." Azatch said as well. Perhaps for the first time, the group he'd been traveling with noted some sort of reverence or deference in his voice.

"Good, good." Grog said as he knelt on the ground. He seemed happy that the archdruid recovered. He leaned back as the others were prepared additional magicks.

Sundos recognized kindred spirits in the druids. They might worship differently than he does. But they had faith just as he did.

Sundos nodded to Oakleaf and Blackthrone, "I'm glad you two have overcome the curse. Can you send any help to the people looking for the girl who entered the swamp? We should return to see if he can aid them. Do you have any idea of the source of the necromantic magic that's raising the dead?"

Skye stood by the side, watching the arch druid slowly heal and speak, her visage grim and she crossed her arms. She spoke more to the Druid, but it was the group that was included. “We’ll track down this necromancer - he’s causing too much trouble for this land otherwise.” Skye was not religious like the druids, but they shared a bond - nature and it’s protection. The wilds were Skye’s home, and she would defend her home.

….no matter ehat

“I will come with you…!” Blackthorn tried to get up, but Oakleaf shook his head. “No. You are not well enough to travel or face the threat against Deadwater. Marigold will take Thistle with her. Their wildshapes are suited for tracking. They can help the villagers search for the child.”

The old man looked at Sundos with regret in his eyes. “Unfortunately, I was struck down before I could trace the foul magicks. I spent the last several weeks in a feverish daze, and cannot remember what transpired in that time.”

When Skye spoke up, Oakleaf stared at her with thoughtful brown eyes. His gaze fixed as he nodded slowly at her with narrowed eyes, as if acknowledging a kindred spirit. He reached for a burlap bag beside him. Rummaging in the bag with fitful mutters, he eventually pulled out two small items and handed them to Skye. They were artfully carved animals made of oak, roughly the size of chess pieces. One resembled a wolf and the other resembled a boar. “Tho’ you are no Druid, you still walk the Path of Nature’s Protector. Rangers have ever been welcome in our Grove. Let these protect you as you protect the Land. Cast them on the ground in your time of need.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:07, Thu 29 July 2021.

Tara approached the elderly druid.

"Sir," she said, "if we find more of these plants, the grown ones, do you know of any good way besides your magic to destroy them?  I've learned some small magics of my own, but not as strong as yours, I'd wager."

Lenelle inclined her head in gratitude to the elder druid: "Thank you for these gifts, my lord.  I've watched some of my comrades sustain awful wounds during our battles.  And, those spells of healing we have access to are not unlimited.  This additional resource is a great boon."  She slipped the ring over her finger.

Then she moved to Blackthorn and told him:   "As I said, Joshua gave me a message for you.  He said to tell you, he knows you did not bring the plague that took your mother's life. That fewer people believe Miriam’s accusation. And that he knows for certain you would never league yourself with the likes of the undead."  She paused.

"And, he didn't ask me to say this, but I will tell you, he still loves you and misses you.   That was plain in his eyes and voice."