Indeed, the trip to Elliottia's cave is fairly short and uneventful. A quick stroll amongst the sturdy, wooden buildings of the picturesque town brings you to the shoreline and a brisk walk north brings you to the area of the cave. Sitting at the entrance is what appears to be an elven woman but with major modifications to her form. She has even larger, fin-like ears, and a pale blue pallor to her skin. On even closer inspection, she has a fine tracery of scales on her arms and cheeks. There are fins growing from her forearms, and she seems to have gill slits on her neck. You know certain druidic paths can make practitioners more animalistic and in tune with the creatures that they study and mimic, but you have never seen a druid so profoundly altered before. She is clearly formidable.

She nods to you at your approach but says nothing, waiting for you to speak first.

[Language unknown: "Trfi herherich comes ounole earng m rom, eiivst. Ortnc les undhatome dinma asbut tiniouble."] The greeting was an old one, and formal, offered with a small bow from the crowfolk. "And my compliments for finding out I was here so quickly. Things have been moving more quickly than I am perhaps used to."

He tilted his head, studying Elliottia for a moment. She had obviously grown mighty in her own path, though what that meant for her was as much a mystery to him as his probably was to her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He began, not wanting to open with his own requests when his he was the guest- or trespasser, depending on Elliottia's point of view.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:07, Fri 04 Aug 2023.

[Language unknown: "Nc paai molout wilad is acat, dinterver. Ec eriv casepl riwhe a tedoullat."] She returned one of the several acceptable formal responses, and nodded her head.

"I watch the waters around this area, and the ripple of magic such as what brought you here travels far. I can assume that since a Council mage delivered you, you are checking on the strange ship off the coast? I have been near. There is blood on that ship, I can tell you that."

Straight to business, then, and with serious news. "I am," He confirmed, shaking his head at the side effect of the teleportation. But his attention was drawn straight to her report of blood. "Haah. I think I'm going to need the details of this, wave-sister. Arguably, this is a diplomatic situation the council wants resolved- and I seem to be in the minority in expecting real trouble. If there's been recent bloodshed..." He clapped his beak once, the hollow sound adding emphasis to his statement.

"I didn't say recent, did I, old one? Many died aboard, but there is no tang of anger, or hate. Pain, anguish, fear. These are the flavors. Something terrible happened, but I don't think those that remain can leave. Something holds them within. The Maelstrom has intense effects, and the magery that caused it leaves a taint behind. Cleansing that taint is key to removing any threat they brought with them."

She reaches into a gap between 2 stones, and tosses a bag your way. "These herbs, when chewed, will give you about 30 minutes of resistance to the miasma that drives things away. There is enough there for all of you, but only just. Don't waste them, or use them early.

When you are onboard, open the jar inside and set it on the wood. When it is full, the boat is clean. Seal it up tight, with the wax in the bag, and throw it to the water. I will deal with it from there.

This is history, [Language unknown: itisevsato]. I feel a change in the waters. For too long, we have made do with just a part of our home. This ship represents a link to the rest of it. Druids for more generations than we even know have dreamed of what you will live tomorrow. Do us proud."

Without another word, she launches herself off of the cave wall and as you watch her spiral through the air, her shape shimmers and flows, and in her place a barracuda slips gracefully into the water and in a blink is gone.
This message was last updated by the player at 16:56, Fri 04 Aug 2023.

That brought another curious tilt of the head, before the answer dawned on Vhazra. Blood, to his nose, was a very immediate smell- one he only encountered fresh in the moment. Elliottia, on the other hand, clearly had senses he lacked- whether through her altered form or wearing other shapes. or just having longer to study the problem. "I'm surprised you could catch that scent. All I would have gotten was blood or decay. If I was lucky."

A talon shot out to catch the the bag before it landed. "I see you've been thinking about this since the ship appeared. Thank you for your work on this." Assuming, of course, she had no ulterior motive. Politics wasn't unheard of amongst his secretive brethren, and they were all individuals. It was rare for one of to act against each other- but not unheard of.

Of course, before he could ask any more questions, Elliottia was gone. Vharza was hardly the most personable individual, but he was orders of magnitude more willing to put up with people than his more isolationist kin. Elliottia seemed to fall into those who had all but left their origins behind. No matter. A breath and a whispered word, and he would at least have an idea of what she had wrought.

[Private to The GM: Casting Detect Magic, just to make sure Elliottia isn't playing me for a fool...

21:13, Today: Vharza of the Mire rolled 12 using 1d20+10 ((2)). Wot's dis den? (Spellcraft).

Well scratch that idea...]

Well, you donked the roll, but she is playing no one for fools today. The bag has strong abjuration magic on it, as well as each of the items within. They are seemingly ordinary, simply a bundle of herbs, a glass jar and unthreaded lid, and a lump of beeswax.

Whatever spellwork Elliottia had woven, it was complex and alien to him. While the roots of their magic was the same, Elliottia had clearly branched in a vastly different direction to his own. The Brinemire was very different to this cold coast, and the seas' mercurial nature was a stark contrast to the stagnant mangrove.

What he could determine was that the pouch carried a variety of protective enchantments, even if he couldn't tell precisely how it was woven. It was possible Elliottia had found a way to twist a protective work into something malignant, but highly unlikely... and would likely draw not only his own wrath, but that of every druid in Ralan Gul.

Treachery was not taken lightly, after all.

And her logic was sound, even if they weren't quite eye-to-eye on the matter. He'd take her word on the matter for now. He stowed the pouch and stalked out of the cave, studying the coast. "Well... It's been a while since I've met another as strange as myself, Reed. Whereto now, do you think?" The little caiman's hiss from under the flap of his pack was curt, drawing a low chuckle from the crowfolk. "Too cold for you, Reed? Back to the inn and the fire then."