Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Softwind" data-source="post: 1324434" data-attributes="member: 13893">DuthroanThirtieth Session  (Sept 03) The rest of the party, still rubbing sleep from their eyes, moving slowly from their wounds, assess the damage dealt to self and surrounds. After judicious use of Athena’s Caduceus stick and healing spells, the wounded members take stock of the remnants of the fight.   Concern over their guide, the hybsil Aviril, turns to surprise as he emerges from the surrounding brush, cleaning his weapon and fur of blood.  Little of which is his.  He explains that he had to deal with an opponent himself, but not to worry; the ogre will not bother anyone again.  After Athena verifies that the wounds the hybsil carries are minor, the party beds down again for the rest of the night. Rising some time after the sun, the party performs its morning ablutions before taking the trail once more, sped by the druids spell, and urged on by the Hybsil, Aviril. The morning turns to noon before a halt is called in a clearing dominated by a large tree. The party is surprised when their guide speaks in the flowing words of the sylvan race, and his words are returned - by the Tree! Eavesdropping by use of a spell, Genoa translates as much of the conversation that occurs before the spell dissipates. Ten minutes long, and that just a greeting! Tombit takes this opportunity to "investigate" the tree, and is lifted up high in its branches... for it is Duthroan, a treant in service to the High Forest and Turlang.The ensuing conversation is in Common, albeit slowly enunciated, and the party is able to converse with Duthroan. The medallions from the hybsils and Turil pave the way to grudging acceptance by the treant. He makes comments about the party being "odd" (all but the elven members) but does not go into detail. He also states that he knows where Turlang is, and is willing to assist the party in reaching the treant, if they would only aid him in a small matter. Seems there is a patch of forest that has "stopped responding" to his commands, and this is worrisome. It is as if the forest had become "infected" or "corrupted".Being the friends of nature that they are, the party agrees to help Duthroan in exchange for his assistance to get them to Turlang (and also to help the forest). He picks up the party and swiftly moves them to an area of the forest that is marsh like, wherein a "falling star" had impacted, several days prior. From their vantage points, the party sees the crater and makes their way as quickly as they can. Within the muck-surrounded crater lies several dozen feet of water, the silt still stirred up from the impact. Devising a plan of ropes and water breathing spells, some of the party descends into the murky depths, ropes tied about their waists and held by the other members. The bottom of the crater holds a still-warm and rather heavy object that the party decides to lift. Several hijinks later, involving the rest of the party and faceplants in the water, the object is revealed to be, at least in part, comprised of adamantite!!No sooner had they exclaimed at the find when the surrounding hummocks and rotting vegetation stretches out their leafy tendrils and latches onto several party members. For the first time, the druid is heard to cry, "The plants must die!" Perhaps it is this pronouncement that distracts the group, or just the confusion of the moment, but no sooner is it uttered than the dwarven ranger disappears down the gullet of a mobile pile of rotting weeds and plants! All told, three crawling credenzas lay siege unto the party - two fall beneath the mighty blades, arrows, and mace of the party, the third being strangely reluctant to head to the great fertilizer pile in the sky...Alchemetical fire, oil, and a flameblade-weilding druid finally lay the plant creature to rest, in a mighty FOOM of heat and ash. Having laid out the opposition, the group pauses to dress wounds and take stock of the damage. When the meteorite is placed within a handy Bag of Holding for storage, the unease the rangers and druids have felt in the area dissipates. Having no fear that the lingering fire will spread in such wet conditions, the party heads back to where Duthroan and the animal companions await.The treant is pleased with the results, for he can feel the "strength" returning to the land once the stone was hidden from the Material Plane. He commends the party, and again offers a quick way to reach Turlang, mentioning once more the "oddity" of the party... Peeling away some bark, he magically forms it into a Seal for the party to show to Turlang once they arrive. The cleric takes possession of it, and then watches in interest as Duthroan cast some form of spell, and points to a patch of ground. "Step there" he states. One by one, the party members step upon the indicated ground, and find themselves amidst ancient ruins. Taking a moment to reorient themselves, they are confronted by another treant, although this one so large as to dwarf Duthroan. Challenged by Turlang, for it can only be he, with such size, the party shows their badges and medallions already gathered. Slow to be mollified, the ancient druid asks of more proofs and deeds of their good intentions. Finally satisfied, he begins to answer questions placed to him, interjected with his own of the outside world (outside being beyond the confines of the High Forest). He, too, speaks slowly, although he makes attempts to speed up to match the flightier nature of the "short lived" races (in comparison to his own long lifespan).  The conversation carries the party into the early hours of the morning, those who are able to stay awake so long. They learn of the history of Hellgate Keep, and its previous inhabitants, and the supposed fate of Yurace and the ranger escort. It does not bode well that the wizard and his party entered Hellgate, and have not since returned.</blockquote>

Verification