The middle of a field of barley in Caer Sidi, August 6th, AE 420
It is a quiet, still, Caer Sidi day. A family of gophers is roused from their foraging by a flash of light, and a sound like distant lightning. Papa gopher pokes his head through the grain and sees a strange sight: Eight outlandish-looking visitors, standing in the midst of the barley field, miles away from any elven habitation. The tallest of the eight, dressed in gaudy, shiny metal, addresses the smallest.
“Good job, Jovah. This really looks like the Broadleaf Forest. No Treants ‘round here!”
“Oh, relax, Gavin,” Jovah replies in an exasperated voice. “I told you plane shift was not a very precise spell. We could be hundreds of miles away. I’ll try a dimensional folding spell to get us there – one to scout the center of the forest, another to actually go. I remember Broadleaf’s description of the corrupted tree in the center, so I should be able to get us there.”
The gnome casts another spell, and a purplish circle opens up in front of them. Looking through, they can see a low hill rising to a great, rotting tree. All the trees in the area seem dead. Hanging from the branches of the immense tree are shields, trophies of Knights of Caer Sidi who have fallen trying to cleanse the Forest of the evil that has dwelled there for centuries. Tried and failed.
Jovah studies the scene intently through the open portal, taking care not to cross the threshold. A scant few seconds later, the portal collapses on itself.
“Okay, everyone,” the gnome announces. “I’m going to do this again, and this time it’ll be the extended version. It’ll stay open a grand total of twelve seconds. Don’t dilly-dally.”
He casts dimensional folding and this time the party charges through.
Papa Gopher sits up on his haunches, blinking a few times, cocks his head in curiosity, and then, losing interest, goes back to foraging.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the fold, the party meets immediate resistance. They are beset by four winged creatures with the heads of stags, dark of plumage and unpleasant of disposition. The beasts are clumsy fliers and must alight near Gavin and Brennen to fight; there is a brief moment of concern that they block the dimensional folding portal sufficiently to not allow the entire group to pass through in time, but Aris and Reana move through the danger zone, and help Gavin and Brennen quickly clear them out, just as the portal snaps shut behind Jovah.
“How did they know to attack us so quickly?” Brennen asks.
“Hmmm,” Reana replies, with a touch of sarcasm. “Could it be the magical portal that we opened right here moments ago that tipped them off?”
“Oh. Yeah.”
The party regroups to face the immense tree, and they begin to approach. Jovah casts fly, just as a figure steps from the shadows beneath the canoply. It is a gaunt figure, the height of a tall elf, clad in the armor of an Caer Sidi knight, covered in a heavily worn cloak. He wields an immense scythe, with a blade made of a dark crystal identical to that which Jovah removed from the Treant Broadleaf on the party’s first trip to this plane.
The elf gestures at the party, and the grass itself begins to grasp at people’s ankles. At about this time, Soldago hears the distinctive sound of small creatures zooming through the underbrush.
“Quicklings! Look out!” the archer yells.
The Quicklings rely on their preternatural speed and dexterity, braving the twisting, tangling vines that surround the party and darting in and out, stabbing at various party members. Jovah zooms up to the scythe-wielding elf, and unloads on him with his holy mace, gratified to find that the holy damage takes effect. He’s slightly less gratified to find that the elf’s scythe deals out unholy damage to him. He’s also unpleasantly surprised to find that the tree itself tries to grab him and squeeze him to death!
That is all that Reana was waiting for. The party has had a few days to prepare, and Reana went to Ryla, the Druidess of Sylvan Fields, and had her prepare a scroll for her. She pulls the scroll out, and casts control plants. The tree stops grasping at party members.
After that, it really doesn’t take long for the outnumbered accursd elf to fall in battle. He tries to escape back to the sanctity (such that it is) of his tree, and the party discovers a huge block of dark crystal embedded in its roots. Jovah smashes it with his holy mace. It takes a few blows, but it eventually cracks, and dissolves. At the same time, the blade of the elf’s scythe dissolves.
“Hopefully that happened to the crystals embedded in the Treants,” Corwin says. “Otherwise, we’ll have a lot of angry trees to fight in not too long a time…”
Gavin gathers up the shields of all the fallen knights, planning on returning them to Duke Alfric. Jalea finds several nests that appear to belong to the stag-headed vultures, and gathers up some loot that he finds there.
The quicklings appear to have fled. Soldago looks around for any evidence of them, and stops short, as he sees something large an lumbering approaching from the deep forest.
It is Broadleaf, the eldest treant of the Forest that bears his name.
