Strange Gaze, pt3-Greatwood VP

Log Info

• Title: Strange Gaze, pt3
• Emitter: Jinks
• Characters: Ravenstongue, Shilde, Skielstregar, Telamon, Vaera
• Place: Feypool, the Greatwood
• Time: Sunday, February 6, 2022, 11:00 AM
• Summary: The party returns from the borderlands of a fey reality to the physical world in the middle of a freezing lake. They make it to shore and quickly set to building a fire and taking precautions against the cold. The decision is made to make camp for the night in an attempt to better-prepare against the elements. Telamon-- in possession of a strange fey artifact-- insists that there is an unnatural fire on the southern horizon.

The night does not pass normally, raising the question of the party's true location in the spheres. Still dark after taking a lengthy rest, the party rouses and heads to follow the sorcerer's vision. The sky seems to grow brighter as they head to the south, finally entering a copse of trees as "day" breaks-- but as Eluna was absent before, so to is Daeus absent now.

The space between the trees grows increasingly hotter, eventually revealing a miniature World Tree at the center of a great, choking conflagration. The group locates the lost warden leader, Annae, and both stabilize and rouse the Sylvanori. All work together to make sense of a strange fey riddle and the torture of the forgotten forest protector is eased for a moment revealing a path up the dreamstate version of Yggdrasil.

Encounters

• Environmental Hazards (3, CR n/a) - Extreme Cold, Cold Weather, and Severe Heat

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  At a glance around PrP Room: Two  =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Shilde               4'4"     160 Lb     Khazad-Aul        Female    Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes.        
Skielstregar         7'2"     330 Lb     Sith-Makar        Male      A bronze/silver scale with fangs and empty eyes.                           
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes                       
Vaera                7'0"     262 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg.                              
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  As the GM  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Jinks               3'4"     39 Lb      Gnome             Male      A gnomish fellow in fancy garb and jewelry.                                
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The water of the half-frozen lake feels especially heavy and cloying as you burst through its surface, seeming to pull you back into its dark depths even as you struggle for the shore. Dragging yourself coughing onto the snow-crusted earth, breathless and shivering, you can at least be relieved to be home on the material plane under Eluna's watchful glow.

Telamon still clutches the blue-white pearl in one hand.

The splashing and crunching settles as the last of the group make it to solid ground. In spite of the moon's glow the night is still dark and cold. Snow drifts are scattered across the forest floor. Barren branches rustle and groan in the evening wind.

You need a fire.

<OOC> Jinks says, "So the first round of cold damage will just happen (since you're swimming out of a freezing lake). Subsequent instances will allow for Fort saves and you can obtain bonuses with Survival checks. Exceptional results can be shared with compatriots (eg: building a good, shareable fire)."
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6: (1): 1
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6: (1): 1
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6: (5): 5
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6: (5): 5
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d6: (3): 3
<OOC> Jinks says, "Folks who took nonlethal damage from the cold are considered frostbitten (treated as "Fatigued") until the nonlethal damage is healed."

Telamon staggers onto the shore, and spits out water. He is not the best swimmer to start with, and being weighed down with clothing doesn't help. He rakes his hair out of his face, turning to make sure the others -- especially Ravenstongue -- are coming ashore. "Well," he says, squeezing water out of his cloak, "at least we're alive for now." He pauses, then looks at the pearl in his hand, still glimmering wih light. "We're going to need a fire. Fast." He flicks his fingers, bringing up four shimmering torches orbiting his head as he starts hunting for any kind of wood.

Ravenstongue sighs deeply as she stands on solid ground again after rising from the water, her eyes peering out at the water as Eluna's light dances on the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Her heart goes to her chest, her fingers folding over the mark of the curuchuil underneath her clothes.

"I hope she understood me. I hope she heard my intent to help," she says quietly, shivering from the cold, and looks over to Telamon holding the pearl. "Yeah. I'll go find something," she says, walking briskly to do just that.

Jinks paged Telamon with 'Speaking of fire; there's the crackling of a distant conflagration drawing your attention. Turning to the south and east you see the brilliant glow of devouring flames. There's a premature dawn burning through the skeletal trees of the winter forest. A sun begins to rise out of place on the southern horizon.'

Skielstregar is one hell of a good swimmer, and the frigid cold of the lake was mostly comforting. Though, even he could feel its bite, and knew that it was teeth clatteringly frigid for the others. He shakes himeself off, still dripping. "Thisss one can help gather firewood. Thisss one is quite good at it," he shares, still rattled and getting over the rage and adrenaline of the fight. He joins Ravenstongue in this endeavor.

Vaera grumbles as she pulls herself to shore, and she pauses to look out to the others for a moment before continuing onwards. "I was not expecting to be underwater like that. This cold will kill all but likely Skielstregar if we do not get a fire going. so, we should do that. Let me get a fire pit going, and I'll light what you bring back."

When Shilde hauls herself out of the lake, her first concern is Rocky. His exodus from the pool isn't exactly effortless; he took a rather solid beating. But he has a big, sloppy kiss for the druid when she kneels to inspect his wounds, which ends up in a round of her shouldering his muzzle away, cursing at him. Only after she's sure his wounds aren't immediately life threatening does she turn her attention to the task of surviving the cold.

<OOC> Jinks says, "Folks can go ahead and give me Survival rolls, please."
GAME: Skielstregar rolls survival: (18)+9: 27
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Survival: (6)+2: 8
GAME: Telamon rolls survival: (10)+0: 10
GAME: Vaera rolls survival: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Shilde rolls survival: (14)+12: 26
<OOC> Jinks says, "Alright. Between Shilde and Skiel you manage to get a massive bonfire going and can dry off around it. This'll take about an hour. Go ahead and give me Fortitude saves, everyone gets a +4 because of the successful Survival checks."
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Fortitude+4: (8)+3+4: 15
GAME: Telamon rolls fortitude+4: (17)+3+4: 24
GAME: Skielstregar rolls fortitude+4: (13)+7+4: 24
GAME: Vaera rolls fortitude+4: (16)+8+4: 28
GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude+4: (2)+7+4: 13
GAME: Shilde rolls fortitude+4: (8)+7+4: 19

Telamon is eager to help, but... less than skilled in woodcraft, and Skiel has to point out fuel that can be used a few times. Well, he IS a bit of a city slicker. Still, once the fire is burning, and the clothes are drying, Tel paces around a few times before pausing, peering south and east. "What..." He glances at the others. "'Lana? Skiel? Do you see this?" He's pointing southward, where light can be seen slowly creeping upwards, a strange dawn rising along the southern horizon.

There is no light on the southern horizon in spite of Telamon's insistence. The treeline is craggy, broken, and dark.

"Th'elf s'goin' loopy.. cold's affecting'm more'n he let on, I think," Shilde comments when she looks up fro her dog to try and see what Telamon is pointing out. And seeing nothing.

Ravenstongue is similarly not so helpful as the chill sets in and distracts her. Her teeth are chattering and she's desperately warming her hands by rubbing them together until the fire's built and she can warm up.

But then her beau is insisting that there's a light in the sky. She raises a brow, and then she puts two and two together. "Is the eye showing you a vision?" she asks. "I can't see it, but I believe you."

Skielstregar, either it is known or not, has been doing nothing but felling trees for the past literal months. And if there's one thing he can do, is find fuel for a fire. He returns, dragging logs behind him and uses his axes to shred them down and cut them with ease into bonfire fuel with the Shilde's help.

Not taking part of the warmth of the flame, but still staying near Vaera, he looks off to the south, him tilting his head to the side. "... huh? There isss nothing. It isss stil dusssk."

He glances to Ravenstongue, then nods his big head.

<OOC> Jinks says, "Roll a Will save for me, Tel."
GAME: Telamon rolls will+2: (5)+5+2: 12
Jinks paged Telamon with 'It doesn't occur to Telamon to share the orb and he might need some convincing if someone asks to hold it.'

Vaera had stayed behind to tend to the fire, and she had pulled her jacket off to let it dry. Thankfully, she kept everything waterproofed that needed to be, and she sets off to prepare the fire-

Only to find that the tinder box she had recently purchased had a large hole in the metal where the craftsman had failed to seal it, leading to all her tinder and striking tools being encased in a block of ice. Vaera grumbles, and goes about fashioning a bow with some spare string, to eventually get a fire going, albeit much more slowly. Thankfully, There is plenty of good fuel, though she does pass off the bow to others, as shivering makes it too difficult to manage herself.

Telamon furrows his brow. But... he rubs his head, his hair still damp even from the fire's heat and a barrage of prestidigitation cantrips. "Is... it trying to tell me something?" He holds the 'eye' up level with his own eyes. "You know, this would work a lot better if you strange entities would speak clearly. First the giant shadow, now this? What happened to clear communication skills?"

He continues, "In any case, what I am seeing appears to be light south of us, like a false dawn. Or a rather large fire. I really hope it's not the latter."

Shilde grunts a little bit at Telamon's description, though she still doesn't rise from Rocky's side, letting the big dog lean against her as he rests. "Sounds like we ought to investigate then, hm?" While she sits, she is carefully going through her own pouches, snacking on preserves. "My vote's to set up camp.. let me prepare some mending magics, and others more appropriate t'this quest."

Skielstregar takes over with the bow, him patting her on the back as she finds the tinderbox is ruined. "We can get another later," he intones before looking to Telamon.

He rubs his neck. "... perhapsss the falssse dawn is to draw you back into the place we came from..."

A glance to Shilde. Then he sighs heavily. "... very well..."

"I think," Ravenstongue says, after listening to Telamon's words, "that it's showing us where the other eye is. Eyes come in pairs, after all. That being said, setting up camp doesn't sound like a bad idea... We could all probably use the rest."

Telamon glances back at the others, and then walks back to the fire proper and the rude campsite. ".... You're probably right." He sighs. "I'm just eager to be done with this." He sits down near the fire, next to Raven. "The wild side trip into the fae realm didn't help either," he remarks ruefully.

Vaera sighs and sits back by the fire as others take over. "It could be something bad, it could be help on finding the other object. You think that is one of the eyes mentioned in the text, yes?" She offers while wringing out her clothes more of the water. "I do not know if that was good we went or not, but it is an option if we wish to avoid slaying this nymph, potentially."

(Camping. Watch order: Skielstregar, Telamon, Shilde) 
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d3: (2): 2
GAME: Jinks rolls 1d100: (51): 51
<OOC> Jinks says, "Tel, gimme a Perception check."
<OOC> Jinks says, "And a Sense Motive"
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (14)+8: 22
GAME: Telamon rolls sense motive+3: (13)+3+3: 19
Jinks paged Telamon with 'Towards the end of the shift you notice a tree that wasn't there before. It's thinner than the others, bowing more violently than it should in the mild winds. It doesn't make a noise that penetrates the crackling burn of the bonfire. Something about its presence is... ominous but not overtly malicious. Logs cracking violently and collapsing into the center of the fire startle and draw you attention. When you turn back to the curious tree you find the space vacant.'

Most find their rest and rise come morning. Only... it's not morning. Eluna still hangs in a starless sky. Time has passed; the drifts are taller for the snow or shifted from the wind. The fire is still hot and burns and the logs shift and crackle but the pile hasn't needed refueling through the whole of the group's respite. It's an unsettling revelation for those used to the world's natural cycles.

That was not a pleasant night. Telamon is just not a wilderness guy, and he rouses feeling a little sluggish and grumpy. And then he sits up, peers around, and glares. "My ass we're back on Ea." He staggers to his feet, peering up at the sky, before looking at the others, and then southward.

Skielstregar awakens, curled up on the ground near Vaera with a big, sleepy yawn. He rubs at his eyes, then cracks them open to settle on Telamon.

Totally a wilderness guy.

".... hmm. Thisss iss.... disssturbing..." he comments in a low rumble, adding onto Telamon's insights.

(Buffs/healing party members)
GAME: Shilde casts Endure Elements. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14 (target: Vaera)
GAME: Shilde casts Endure Elements. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14 (target: Ravenstongue)
GAME: Shilde casts Endure Elements. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14 (target: Shilde)
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (8)+1: 9
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (7)+1: 8
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (2)+1: 3
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (5)+1: 6
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (6)+1: 7
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds.
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (6)+1: 7
GAME: Shilde casts Endure Elements. Caster Level: 4 DC: 14 (target: Rocky)
GAME: Shilde casts Create Water. Caster Level: 4 DC: 13

Ravenstongue awakens not nearly so harshly as Telamon does. She yawns and stretches out as Telamon gets up from the ground, a little smile on her face as her eyes open up to behold the moon, her violet eyes twinkling a little in the moonlight. "Just as the stories said," she whispers with a quiet awe.

Her hand goes yet again to the curuchuil mark on her chest. "Grandfather, I am so happy I came here," she murmurs in the tongue of the fey quietly before she looks over at Telamon and Skielstregar.

Right. Not everyone's nearly so spellbound. "Good morning," she says cheerfully. Pothy flaps onto her shoulder and nuzzles into her slightly messy braid.

Shilde's night wasn't unpleasant.. though with a big, shaggy, living heater for a pillow, she has certain advantages. When she's roused for her turn at the watch she shakes sleep off with no complaint, spending her time preparing magics for the coming day... and pulling from her various 'stores' to have warm drinks prepared for any who want them when it's time for everyone to get up. As for food.. well, the druid leaves that to everyone's own devices.

As the others do rise for the day, she attends them with revitalizing and comforting magics... for the remainder of the day, herself, Ravenstongue, Vaera and even Rocky, at least, should feel no more chill than a brisk, spring afternoon.

"Well. It's morning. Pretty sure anyways," Shilde tells Ravenstongue once her ministrations are complete and she's cradling her tin cup. "Wouldn't know it t'look."

Vaera wakes up slowly, leaning just a moment to pull Skielstregar into a hug, before she sits up and stretches, moving quickly to her feet as the moon is still in the sky.

"So, we are still not sorted. Is this something to do with that artifact, or are we still in the feywilds?"

Telamon seems a little less ornery after the first cup of coffee, and comments, "I saw something last night. Do you remember when we entered this area -- there was a woman who turned into a tree? I thought I saw something like that... an odd looking tree near the edge of the firelight. And then it disappeared." He rubs the bridge of his nose. "For the record, I still see that glow south and east of us. My guess is it's the eye, yes. Only way out is through."

Skielstregar gladly takes the warm drink, him offering a thanks as he returns the hug briefly to the redscale. The anxiety of everything abates just a tinge.

He scratches a bronze patch on his face. "... perhapsss the tree woman issss still watching usss. If... thisss thing took Ikshama'sss eyesss... doesss anyone remember what her eyesss looked like? It hasss been some time sssince thisss one lassst saw them. That... thing. Lassst night. Their eyesss were unusual."

"I'm not certain what's going on here," Ravenstongue admits, looking up at the moon. "I know that time is variable in Quelynos, based on what Grandfather's told me, but... We're not there. We're here. I... I think."

She gets a dreamy look in her eyes and giggles softly. "Does it matter where?" she asks quietly. "Either way I feel at home."

But the conversation turns back to the eyes and the woman who turned into a tree. She looks back over at Telamon and Skielstregar. "The woman who turned into a tree? I saw that too. I spoke to her. She said 'forget, forgot, forgotten, not always, now never.' I believe that was the nymph. Maybe an echo of her? Something like that. It... makes sense to me, but it's hard to explain to you, I think."

Ravenstongue can't help but giggle a little again. "I'm sorry. I'm just strangely so happy. Just being here."

And to Skielstregar, she says, "I don't remember what her eyes looked like, really. I think to the nymph, it doesn't matter what they look like, so long as they are eyes."

Shilde grunts at the information being relayed, giving her tin cup a wipe before stowing it away. She slips a few strips of cured meat to Rocky, then pats him on the neck before pushing off of him to her feet. He jumps up to follow. "Well. Makes one of us, at least," she comments. "Ready t'move when the rest'v you are."

"There was a woman who turned into a tree when we were attacked by those creatures, and I remember the one watching us before." Vaera notes. "I do not know what the eyes looked like, I am sorry."

Vaera sighs. "Best not to be eating things for now, just in case. I don't need to eat much usually."

"A tree that looks similar sounds worth investigating. And we should see if we can figure out more about that artifact in the process."

Skielstregar stares at Ravenstongue for a long moment. Unmoving.

"It doessss matter," he deadpans. "You may feel at home in thisss ssstrange land, but we are not welcome here. With all due ressspect, Sssshaman Ravenssstongue, get the ssstars out of your eyesss and focusss on the fact we're in a place where a creature enjoyssss drowning people out of dessspair."

"Thisss one'sss home is a tent in Mictlan, not here," he adds in a grunt, getting up to his feet and getting his slew of weapons together. "And certainly not at the bottom of a lake. Thiss one is ready," he nods to Vaera.

<OOC> Jinks says, "Alright. Easy Survival check to steer Telamon away from pitfalls."
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Survival: (7)+2: 9
GAME: Skielstregar rolls survival: (17)+9: 26
GAME: Vaera rolls survival: (4)+11: 15
GAME: Shilde rolls survival: (14)+12: 26

Telamon has a light on the southern horizon to follow. Skielstregar and Vaera flank the half-Sil, occasionally steering the fellow away from deceptively deep drifts or disguised bramble patches.

The journey to the south and east takes you away from the moonlit lake, making a crooked orbit around the distant Feypool campsite-- if it's even there in this in-between realm. The snow falls in a light dusting carried on lazy winds. Eluna remains in Her heavens, looking down over your shoulders as you wander the wilderness following visions... even as she loses her luster and turns pale.

The further south you go the lighter the sky becomes. Black to purple to pink to orange to yellow to blue. From blue to a harsh white. Eluna has vanished again and no sun has taken Her place. Daeus plays absent father.

The forest is dense here, the copse stretching out ahead pierced by straight shafts of light. The grass is green and free of snow. It's warmer with the trunks and branches closing in to serve as windbreak and the glaring sunlight beating down from above.

"Well now," Telamon remarks, pushing a hand through his hair as the sun blazes down. "I guess we should've expected it. One side, locked in cold and evening, the other a nonstop high-sun." He frowns, peering at the pearl in his hand. "It's... reacting. Everyone keep your eyes open. I can feel it waking up again."

Ravenstongue always seems just a moment away from bursting into song, the delight in her face and eyes so evident. Every now and then, she looks over to Skielstregar and seems to remember his words, as the expression fades, but it returns soon enough. The beauty, the splendor, the magic of the sky and the forests, how the snow gives way to grass that crunches beneath her feet--

"I'm alive," she says, looking to Telamon. It's both an indication of her alertness to the situation and almost a grateful acknowledgement that she exists here and now.

"Keep your feet on the ground," Pothy says from her shoulder in a dwarvish voice. It seems he shares Skielstregar's concerns.

Skielstregar keeps astride Telamon as they walk, making sure he acted like a guard rail for him so he didn't venture out. But, also, his attention was kept on Ravenstongue. And silently he gives a firm stare when they meet eyes.

He had a gut feeling he was watching a youngling walking strangle vines.

His eyes squint as he looks up, a hand on his holy symbol. "... there isss no sssun..." he mentions, holding his weapon close.

Shilde scowls, and though it's an expression her face is comfortable wearing, it's reflective of her opinion of the surroundings as winter gives way to warmer season in an, in her opinion, unnatural way. Which is fair. They aren't in the natural world. "T'ain't right," she grumbles. "It's off."

Vaera keeps pace with the others, but the unfamiliar land was proving to be difficult to navigate.

"Remember, we are here to deal with a nymph who is permanently blinding people. We must be careful doing so, as well." She warns as they continue on. "There may be a sun, elsewhere. Or magic from that artifact Telamon is carrying is making it appear as such."

GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (8)+8: 16

Telamon pauses. "Stop. Everyone." When everyone has stopped, he speaks, "I don't know what this is, but... there's a fire. I can see it in that direction, feel the heat." He points, but of course... "We're going to walk towards it, very carefully. I can see a shimmer, like heat off the ground, that way. If I start yelling, you'll know things are going awry."

Skiel halts, him squinting as he looks forward. He shifts uncomfortably. Overwhelming heat was... not fun. "... al... right," he murmurs, putting a hand on Telamon's shoulder. Just in case he has to yank the smaller man back.

"Hmm?" Ravenstongue looks over at Telamon as he mentions fire. Her eyes slowly widen. The dreaminess in her eyes falters, and she no longer so enthusiastically looks at the environs. "Fire? We... We should be careful."

Pothy sighs. "Finally," he says, mimicking Ravenstongue's voice.

Shilde barks a short laugh. "Careful? This line'v work?" Still, there are certainly precautions that can be taken. She leans over, speaks to her dog, then gestures behind the group. After another sloppy lick, the dog falls back to trail behind everyone.

The heat haze-- like all of the phenomena described by the sorcerer to this point-- is unobservable by the naked eye. For the man in possession of the strange artifact the progression is gradual, the warmth increasing as the group journeys further through the trees. For the others its delayed but made more sudden and potent for it, like standing in front of a furnace when the hatch is thrown open...

Then, through it all abd beyond a break in the corpse, a massive tower of twisting wood; Yggdrasil in miniature. The would-be world tree glows through the intervening boughs, smoldering and aflame. The smell of brimstone is unpleasantly thick and the smoke begins to trouble your nose and throats.

The whole sky is burning. The noon sun in a cloudless sky isn't this bright, this oppressive. The roar of the fire is a physical thing pushing into your ears. There might be another haunting scream but its lost in the pulsing thrum of a world alight.

The light grows so intense at the top of the tree it's impossible to look directly at it.

Pushing forward a short distance finds you at the edge of a clearing leading up to the massive, supernatural tree. The ground is covered in charcoal, ash, and smoldering embers.

<OOC> Jinks says, "Perception checks!"
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (5)+8: 13
GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (16)+9: 25
GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (19)+11: 30
Jinks paged (Shilde, Skielstregar, Telamon, Vaera) with 'The other lost warden, burnt and blackened in places, still-smoking, lays against a tree, propped and semi-supine.'
Jinks paged Skielstregar with 'There's another pile (similar to the one by the lake) of offerings at the base of the same tree. These are blackened and charred.'
Jinks paged (Skielstregar, Vaera) with 'When you notice the pile you're struck by this vision:'
Jinks paged (Skielstregar, Vaera) with 'You see the world in idyllic summertime. Children laugh and play between the forest trunks and over crawling roots. Young lovers find privacy beneath shadowed boughs. Ancient elves relax and remember their days spent in the quiet safety of their home. The Sildanyari make offerings against an ancient tree: food, fetishes, and blood. A face looks on from the trees, omnipresent and benevolent. Their protector.'

Telamon's face twitches, eyes wide at the... conflagration, for lack of a better term. "By the gods!" he sputters. The heat roils and blazes, and as he tears his gaze from the gigantic tree, his eyes fall upon a scorched and blackened form. He flinches visibly, before pointing to the sprawled body without a word. "Stay close to me. I don't think this place is kind to those who stray too far from the eye."

Shilde misses a step at the sudden onrush of heat, barely catching herself from a fall.. then, hands on her knees, she spends a few moments bracing herself to heat, trying not to think of how bad it would be without the protections prepared earlier. Then she looks up, facing the flames... looking into the flames. "Rocky!" she barks, and the dog immediately returns to her side.. and the pair move closer to Telamon at the elf's insistance. "Think I liked th'freezing lake better."

Skielstregar groans quietly as the roar of fire, the heat saps his strength. He's meant to be chilled, under the snow. Not... not this. And the sun cannot be the Father's. His warmth is soothing, not... not this.

He pants, steam leaving with each breath as he swings his head around to look. "... Sscalesss."

He looks to where Telamon points out, and he pauses. Stopping in his bigfooted tracks. A light smile twiches on his face, but then it knits into concern. He rubs at his head, groaning and shaking it. ".... thisss one... thisss one saw something. There'sss... there," he points to a charred pile next to the body. "That isss a warden. But thosse are... are offerings to the tree. The tree isss... a thing. And... the people that lived here lived in peassse. The tree wasss or isss their protector."

All Ravenstongue can behold is the massive tree. Her eyes well with tears from the oppression of the burning sky, the sudden heat. She whimpers, her hands trembling. "This is awful," she says quietly, but she keeps close to Telamon as he asks. She doesn't dare stray, her other half's guidance suddenly becoming the ironclad command she steps to.

Vaera continues with the group, not being bothered too much by the heat, but still being careful not to set things on fire. She stops for a moment as the others warn them, and she too squints at a body near the tree. Only to stop, and shake her head. "This is something important, and linked to the previous place." She finally states, agreeing with Skielstregar. "The people who were here made offerings of blood, food and art to the tree, for some purpose. Perhaps for the one who has been following us."

The warden is propped against the offerings tree at the edge of the clearing, a hand of blackened skin curls back over raw, red meat beneath rests against her chest. The bow limb she holds is intact but only just-barely and the string is burnt away entirely. She stinks of burnt meat, of her singed hair and missing eyebrows and her face is an angry, blistering red, blonde hair full of ash. Her cloak has suffered the worst of the flames but the leathers beneath, too, are damaged and soot-stained.

<OOC> Jinks says, "Heal checks?"
GAME: Skielstregar rolls heal: (2)+1: 3
GAME: Shilde rolls heal: (18)+7: 25
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Heal: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Telamon rolls heal: (2)+0: 2
GAME: Vaera rolls heal: (10)+7: 17
Jinks paged Shilde with 'She is, in fact, alive. You locate bite marks mixed in with and cauterized by the burns. Her breathing is shallow due to smoke inhalation.'
<OOC> Jinks says, "RT, Skiel, and Tel can give me Perception checks, too."
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (15)+8: 23
GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (12)+9: 21
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (18)+4: 22
You paged (Ravenstongue, Skielstregar, Telamon) with 'You're all quite certain this is Annae, the Sylvanori warden you met upon arriving in the Feypool the first time. Ikshama's second at the camp.'
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds. (targeting: Annae)
GAME: Shilde used a Wand of Cure Light Wounds. (targeting: Annae)
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (3)+1: 4
GAME: Shilde rolls 1d8+1: (4)+1: 5

Shilde approaches the unmoving body with the others, fully expecting the worst. With the other warden dead, and this one looking as she is.. it's somewhat of a surprise when the dwarf woman sees movement. So slight she doubts it at first, but a few more moments to confirm... "This one's alive!" she exclaims, fumbling at her belt for the twig-like wand she brandished earlier. Once again she calls upon its restorative powers, this time for the savagely burned warden.. "There's other wounds.." she says. "But she's breathin'... " Then she waits, to see if the wand's magic has any effect.

Ravenstongue puts a hand to her mouth as she looks at the warden. "Is that Annae? The warden that we met when we came here the first time?" she asks, looking to the group. Her eyes widen as she hears that Annae's alive. "Thank goodness she's alive! But... what happened here?"

Skielstregar blinks at the announcement, him jogging up within Telamon's protective aura. "Annae, we are here," he tries to assuage, worried as he kneels down beside the others. He looks to the charred offerings, then he gaze goes to the large tree in the center.

Vaera was quick to jog over to the body upon realizing it was not in fact a body, but someone badly burnt, but not as fast as Shilde was. "You know her?" She asks the others as she does what she can to at least check over the wounds and watch for healing. "It seems that we were not the only ones sent here, then. We need to take care of her first, but if she knows anything, we can question her afterwards, hopefully."

The burning tree screams, a nubile elven shape half-forming in the bark to writhe in pain. The hollow knots of her eyes smolder brackish smoke as sap boils and sputters. Arms reach free and she braces her hands against the massive trunk, heaving to push herself away from the conflagration as the screaming continues. Flames spark to life at her lips, catching the sap and engulfing her face. Her grip slips and she falls back into the trunk and a burst of smoke and ash.

"... no," croaks the warden, eyelids fluttering. Her hand is half-knit, burned and blistered but no longer blackened and cracking. "... trapped... gifts..." She's struggling and begins to cough weakly, throat burned raw by the sheer heat of the place. The warden drags her sandpaper tongue across her cracked lips and whispers something breathlessly in Sylvan.

Jinks paged (Ravenstongue, Shilde) with 'Morning. Night. Always. / Forever neverending. / Lady forest fair."'

Skielstregar furrows his brows at the struggling figure in the tree, his jaw tensing as he look back down at the warden. "... thisss one... sssaw a vision. This one thinks othersss got trapped into giving giftsss to the tree. There wasss a time where people did thisss. Or... it isss a fabrication. Thingsss appeared fine in it."

He looks over to the flames. "... thisss is not fine."

"Forever neverending, lady forest fair?" Ravenstongue says, raising a brow, her eyes going to the burning figure in the trees.

Horror dawns on her expression. "She's... Is this the nymph's corruption?"

Ravenstongue's hands ball up into fists. She stares at the burning tree. "What if... I call out to it. She's hurting. They're hurting. Please tell me what to do. I want to help."

Her words are halfway addressed to the group and halfway addressed to herself, caught somewhere between rumination to oneself and her allies around her.

Shilde pulls cloth out of her pack, then douses it with her waterskin.. then carefully puts the soaked bandage to the warden's lips. "Sit still, y'daft elf.." she says shaking her head at the wounded warden's ramblings. "Do what'ch need to do," she tells the others.

Vaera stops to listen, trying to figure out what was being said. She chuffs, and stands back up in time to catch the form coming from the tree. "We may have found the nymph in question again. But this is not right. I do not know if talking will work, if it's even possible to put out these fires. There were offerings made before, but the ones this guard brought were incinerated."

"Mmn." The warden forces her eyes open again, their grey like the ash in her hair and falling through the air around the group. "She's trapped," he other hand pushes the cloth away from her mouth, looking past Shilde. "Make the offerings... say the words." She's slowly finding her voice thanks to the druid's efforts.

Telamon looks back and forth, aghast at the injury done to Annae and not sure what to do about the tree or the nymph. At the warden's words, though, he leans in. "What do we use for offerings? I mean, we have the eye, but I'm pretty sure 'eye for an eye' is not the way we need to go here." He turns his gaze to the burnt offerings, trying to determine what they were before they were charred.

Skielstregar grumbles to himself, uncorking some of his own water and splashing his face with it. The water sizzles on his scales. This wasn't his wheelhouse. "... perhapsss fresssh offeringsss. We have food, yesss? Not burned? Thiss one iss unsure if you mean thessse here, Annae?" he mentions, stooping down to carefully pick up the pile next to her.

Ravenstongue looks over at the rest of the group. "I know the words," she says, and then she closes her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"Morning. Night. Always.

Forever neverending.

Lady forest fair."

As she recites the words, the burnt offerings smolder away into ash that blows away into the air. Beneath them lies an empty wooden bowl formed by the tree roots.

Ravenstongue stares down the bowl. "Well, umm... That was easy."

Skiel blinks as the things he picks up crumbles away on the wind. "... oh."

Vaera blinks and looks to the offering bowl that was now empty. "Food, blood, and carvings. But it was not specific, I do not wish for any here to enter a blood pact with the fey by accident."

"But, we need to get out of here, and I see no other option for the moment but going forward with this. They seem to be the one who brought us here, after all."

Shilde settles back a little bit, giving the warden space while she turns her attention to the others pondering the riddle.. and apparently opening the way forward for them. Or at least the next step of the puzzle. "So what's next?"

Telamon just gives Raven a look when Vaera mentions 'blood pact'. "I think one pact is enough for you, dear. Besides, gods only know what kind of fae politics would enter in if you wound up with two different obligations." He looks around a bit worriedly. "Carvings? Anyone here good with a whittling knife?" Nervously, he rolls the pearl in his hand around, looking around on reflex and watch the burning tree to make sure it doesn't spit out something nasty.

Skielstregar blinks at the bowl, then gives a languid exhale with his face buried into his hand. "... if the damn tree wantsss blood, it can have thiss one's blackened, tainted blood," he growls quietly. Losing patience in the befuddling heat as he glances to Ravenstongue.

At that mention, he look at Vaera. "... Firebrand hasss woodworking skillsss."

<OOC> Vaera says, "I'd like to roll craft/carpentry to attempt to figure out what the fetishes were made out of"
<OOC> Shilde says, "Craft/carpentry you say."
<OOC> Shilde would like to assist that.
GAME: Vaera rolls craft/carpentry: (8)+5: 13
GAME: Shilde rolls craft/carpentry: (19)+8: 27
Jinks paged (Shilde, Vaera) with 'They seemed to range between simple twig figures, little carved figurines, and pine needle dolls. Perhaps the act of giving was more important what, exactly, was given. (ie: it's the thought the counts)'

Ravenstongue looks over to Telamon. "You know I'm not actually in a blood pact with Grandfather, right?" she asks, looking back at the offering bowl.

"Not yet, anyways," she murmurs.

Ravenstongue sighs as she looks at the offering bowl. "If people give art and other things to the tree, surely nobody needs to let out blood."

"She... she should be ours," Annae groans at Skielstregar. She keeps her wounded hand braced against her chest and shifts awkwardly, working a dagger free from her belt with the other. There's a wince when she forces her hand open to release the damaged bow. Normally-wide, grey eyes narrow to slits as she takes a deep breath and draws a bloody line across her palm to undo some of the work just-done by Shilde. Grimacing, she rolls and drags the wound over the lip of the bowl to smear it with her lifeblood. "Morning. Night. Always," she intones.

Vaera takes a moment to look at the offering bowl, and she nods. Only to find a hand smearing it with blood, and she turns to look at the warden. "I hope you know what you are doing here. I was hoping we could avoid any blood offerings, but it is too late for that."

"The carvings, there was not too much to them, but they were made of wood. Figures of wood and pine needles, there was not much order to them. But they were made with care, clearly. We should see if there is any in tact wood here, that does not require harming the tree."

Having studied some of the remains of the previous offerings alongside Vaera, and offering some of her own commentary regarding the... that is to say, there was absolutely nothing truly remarkable about any of them aside, possibly, from what they meant to suplicants. She nods her agreement Vaera's assessment. "Something that means something."

A moment later, Shilde looks at Rocky for a moment.. then shrugs, reaching into her dwindling supplies of cured meat. She looks at it for a moment.. "Sorry, furball.. s'for a good cause." Then she tosses the jerky into the bowl.

Skielstregar winces as blood has been let, and he huffs, shaking his head. He offers no comments, seeing has he has a few steaming in his skull, and he keeps them there. "... thisss one can find some loose things that cracked and fell. There are trees near," he mentions, offering up to get some woodcarving resources.

The makari man pops off a tarnished bronze scale and adds it to a pile of small fellwood. "Ussse it as you see fit," he mentions to Vaera.

Ravenstongue plucks out a strand of her hair, wincing as she does so, and hands it to the crafters in the group to use in the doll. "Should I give you a Pothy feather, too?" she asks with a grin.

"Absolutely fucking not," Pothy says, mimicking a deeper, more maternal voice similar to Ravenstongue's. Ravenstongue can't help but laugh.

Telamon carefully cuts off a small lock of his hair as well, passing it to Vaera in turn. "Don't spend it all in one place," he deadpans. "That stuff doesn't grow on trees, after all."

Vaera stops after picking up a small piece of wood, and she is given a bronze scale. "Do you think I need that, Skielstregar? I much prefer them on you, rather than off." The red makari chuffs, taking it for a moment. Then, she gets to work, taking out some carving tools. She sits down nearby, and begins working, making the rough shape of the woman she saw from the tree, and spending time further refining it. "We should be careful, still. What caused this fire is still an unknown."

<OOC> Jinks says, "Go ahead and just pose dropping the offering in, V, and I'll close us for the day."
GAME: Vaera rolls craft/carpentry: (3)+5: 8
<OOC> Vaera says, "rerolling that"
GAME: Vaera rolls craft/carpentry: (5)+5: 10

Vaera finishes up her carving, and sets it down in the bowl. It was much like the elf from the tree, but lacking the pained expression, and looking more at peace. She steps back, and looks to the others. "I hope that this will be all that is needed for the offering." Vaera notes, looking to the tree for any sort of reaction.

With the offering made the tree warps, twisting and contracting into a tighter, taller spiral. A path opens and the flames shrink back into the gnarled, ancient wood. The smoke withdraws and the light becomes less painful, the heat less intense.

There's movement among the flames that remain; spawn of the devouring heat. The scourging fires come to life. The ascent into the boughs will not go uncontested.