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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 2066588" data-attributes="member: 1210">The Forest OracleLost in the fey realmsThe best part, muses Beau as the group heads back upstream, is that now he has Martini’s helmet.  With an inward grin, he thinks of all the fun he’s going to have with it.It took them a long time to heal up enough to travel on; but the entire time it has been that eerie twilight.  Beau shivers.  This wood definitely feels unnatural- who knows what lurks within it?  And what about the head? wonders Beau.  It said something about its brothers...  He sighs.  Stupid Lita, kicking the head away!  It might have known something helpful.Shaking his head, Beau keeps his thoughts to himself. The group reaches Latheo after several hours, and upon hearing that they slew the gar, the strange man’s face contorts in a grin.  “Excellent!” he exclaims.  “Ah, my swimming hole!  Come, friends, let us go put it to use!”“Is there any way you can help our friend?” Timothy asks.  “Martini died helping you.”“Ah!  Not I, not I,” Latheo laments.  Glumly our heroes follow him back to the swimming hole.  With him at their side, the trek takes only about fifteen minutes.  Blissfully, he swims out into the water, and- reluctantly at first- our heroes join him.  Soon they find themselves relaxing, despite the mournful loss of Martini; and they determine to take his body with them, at least for the time being, to see if aught can be done for him.  Latheo happily advises them to seek out the oracle of the woods.  “Perhaps it can help you,” he offers.“Where do we find it?” asks Beau.“Oh, you know, that way,” replies Latheo, waving a hand kind of negligently around in a few directions.“Right,” Beau groans.***Tromping for hour through the woods, our heroes struggle through the undergrowth until they finally meet a wise old treant named Fleswood.  Impressed by their good manners, he is friendly enough and, when asked, gladly guides them to the cave that the oracle is said to dwell in.  The party sets camp outside the cave and rests and eats for a time.  Beau sneaks off and removes Martini’s magic gem from the setting in the helmet that Martini had put it in.  Smirking, the rogue pockets it for the time being.  Then, whistling, he returns to the group.  “Say, Timothy, you should try Martini’s helmet on,” he says.”Why?” asks Timothy slowly.  “It will make you powerful.  Remember how powerful Martini was?  It was because of his helmet!”“I don’t like helmets.  They’re too heavy.”“Why do you want him to try the helmet on?” asks Whisperclick, the party’s gnomish companion.“I don’t think it’s a good idea in any event.”  Sandy frowns.  “I think that it changed the way Martini thought.  He used to be all soft, but it really firmed him up, gave him some discipline.”The gnome looks at the helm, interest obvious in his eyes.“Try it on,” suggests Beau.“But then you might not be able to take it off,” warns Naomi, wincing as she remembers the blow Martini had delivered to Lita’s face when she took it off his head.“I’ll do it if you do it,” offers Beau, a mischievous gleam in his eye.Whisperclick obviously torments himself in internal debate for a few minutes; thenhe shrugs.  “Okay.”  He hefts the helmet for a moment, testing its weight, then slips it over his head.Everyone looks on expectantly, but there’s no immediate visible effect.  Whisperclick sways for a moment, but then he shrugs and removes the helm, handing it back to Beau.  “Okay, it’s your turn.”Beau mulls it over for a minute, then shrugs and puts the helmet in his backpack.  “Nah.  I’ll do it later.”  He wanders off to eat, leaving Whisperclick sputtering in dismay.*  “But we had a deal...”   ***The oracle is a strange earthen woman named Brakrin.  Again, the party approaches politely, hats in hand so to speak, and she is impressed enough by their manner that she smiles and says, “My prophecies tell of doom and destruction, of dissolution and the decay of all things, and also of wealth and material gain.  I will speak once only, and then you must go from here; such is the custom.  In return you must each leave two things well-chosen from your pockets and pack.  Listen well, for my words come but a single time.“Many endings are coming fast upon us all at this time; an end to the restraint of some realms, which you are experiencing; an ending to unities long tied together with cords of blood; an end to an era of history.  You, personally, you have all suffered much loss lately; many of your companions have been lost to you.  A dreadful curse will lay across your shoulders once you leave our lands, and one of you will likely die before you escape it.  Many enemies are following you, and you will draw them like moths to a torch at night.  The deadliest of all will follow you to the Final Battleground before all is done; and death will visit that battleground with terrible greed and hunger.“Indeed, the price for your escape- or a price- is death for at least one of you.  There may be other ways, yet the guide must always be paid lest you be lost forever, here where time passes differently than you perceive. “The Three Haligonians will never forget your face,” pointing at Lita, “for the terrible insult you dealt one of them.  As long as he remains without the well, you shall not find the path.**“As for wealth, the greatest wealth you have amongst you is not money but favors.  Do not underestimate the power of your currency.  It might perhaps be enough even to overcome the terrible curse of the Haligonians, or even death itself.” The party turns as one to Lita.  “Dammit, Lita!” exclaims Sandy.  “Why did you have to kick that head into the woods?!”“Maybe we can find him.”  Timothy looks at the others.  “If we put him back in the well, maybe he’ll help us find the path.”Everyone within the cave leaves two items for the earth oracle.  Timothy leaves the torch and dagger combo that he always carries (almost for security).  Naomi leaves a bottle of liquor, a trade bar and a piece of the ruined city that the party found in the mountains.  Whisperclick leaves a mug of water and some caltrops.  And Beau leaves a bunch of copper pieces, the skin of one of the dire beavers that had dammed up the river coming out of the mountains.  Then our heroes head out, hoping to find their way back to the head that Naomi kicked into the bushes so many hours ago.“And it’s still twilight,” notes Naomi.Next Time: Our heroes meet a horny satyr!*And lawful good.**Yeah, I stole the name of an ENWorlder(s) for the heads; I just loved the sound of “the Three Haligonians.” <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />  You take inspiration where you find it.</blockquote>

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