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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Softwind" data-source="post: 1387467" data-attributes="member: 13893">Root and lootSession 35 (Nov 03) [part three of three] “Come again?” Tombit asks. “Drylle apparently set up a deadfall, with the trigger right here.” Brynn points, first at a patch of ground, and then follows a barely seen cord from that spot up into the trees, where a log is precariously perched. Kneeling, Brynn cuts the line, disabling the trigger. “Good job Genoa.” Cautiously, the trio works their way to the lean-to, and steps inside, although Karazak declines to enter the small structure. Inside, Brynn pokes at the pile of leaves, straw, and cloth bedding on the ground, using the sheathed end of his long sword. When no plagues occur, or traps are sprung, he becomes bolder. Pulling back the blanket off the rough wood frame bed, he spies a small satchel and some relatively fresh dirt. While Tombit jumps at the chance to rummage through the sack, Brynn uncovers a wooden box in the newly dug floor, and takes the box out of the lean-to. Setting it on the ground, he opens it. And then realizes that opening it without checking it over could be a mistake. Nothing untoward occurs, however, and he bends to the task of investigating the contents. Two items are found within – a light shirt apparently made from leaves, made to go under other clothing, and a rod of some sort. He looks up from his find to see Tombit chuckling as small gemstones run through his fingers and back into the small bag he holds. Brynn watches for a moment, before commenting, “You know, that’s not ours. All we came here for was tae determine if this hermit Drylle is a druid, one able tae change the weather an all. You’d best put that back. This too…” He hands Tombit the box, causing him to drop the sack. Coins and gems scatter across the grass. As Tombit and Brynn put the contents back into the sack, there is a disturbance from the edge of the woods. In the next moment, they are startled by a small reptilian shape ducking between them, grasping the sack in its claws, and flying up and over the trees. “Dal! Where’s Cobalt going with that?” Tombit shouts to the mage, whose familiar has just taken the loot *he* was going to take. “Best guess? Back to our cell at the Wizards Guild. I do believe he’s got quite the stash.” “What? Call him back…” Tombit’s words trail off as he sees the mage slowly shaking his head. “He’s got a mind of his own. One of the agreements I made with him was to allow him a certain amount of my funds for his own. Being a student mage, I didn’t earn much. I guess he’s decided now is a good time to collect. Sorry.” Brynn is disgruntled. “I didnae come here tae steal. For all we know, Drylle will return shortly…”  Genoa begins shaking her head, as she walks towards the monk and ranger. “No, I don’t believe he will be returning…” “Why’s that?” “One, his grove is returning back to the Green. No will shapes it. So he’s either released his influence voluntarily, or he’s died. Two, I found this,” she holds up parts of a wooden stave, carved with a leaf motif, but broken, or rather*bitten*, in two, “near that turnip-thing we killed yesterday.” She tosses them to the ground. “It was a druid’s staff. I can tell. A bit of Drylle’s essence suffuses it. Or did. It’s fading now, almost gone.” She looks up at Brynn, catching his eye. “He’s gone, returned to the Green.” “Well, perhaps he has relatives…” Brynn protests. “If he did, how would we find them? Do we know Drylle is his real name? Is he from here? No, Brynn, I say this time, we claim his belongings. If someone asks for them later, we turn them over. Until then, we use them. Especially *that*,” she says, pointing to the garment in the now-open box in Tombit’s hands. “I’ve really hoped I’d find one of these on our travels. My father spoke of one often.” “That frail thing? It’s a tunic of leaves. What good is it?” “This is called druid’s vestments. It’s a magical item that allows a druids’ wildshaping ability to be extended.” She pulls on the tunic, and twirls around for effect. Brynn begrudgingly admits it looks somehow *right* when worn by the druid. Daladariel spots the other item left in the box, a rod or wand of some sort. He casts Detect Magic, and determines that it is magical in nature. “And I, I will study this item. Perhaps it can be put to good use…” His smile does not waver as Brynn sighs heavily, throws up his hands, and walks away. “Let’s head to town, and then Karazak and I will forage, for us, and for the town. There has to be something here, somewhere. When we left some days ago, they were near to starving.” “Oooh, can you look for berries? It’s been days since I’ve had pie…” Tombit looks wistful. Genoa lays a hand on Tombit’s shoulder. “If I can find any berries, ripe or past season, I should be able to craft something with my magic.” “Berry pie?” The Halfling’s furry face looks hopeful. Genoa laughs, and then sobers. “Tombit, if you could eat a pie of Goodberries, I’ll eat my new vest. Each berry should be as a full meal.” “Full meal for *you*, maybe. It would probably be just a snack for me…” “We shall see…” *** The Companions travel back to Sumpter, like returning champions, albeit dirty, scarred, battered and bruised ones. They find that conditions have not improved in the few days they have been gone, save for the absence of attacks from plant creatures.  Many of the villagers are too weak to do more than smile when the news is told of the clearing of the threat from the surrounding woods. The smiles get broader as Brynn and Karazak, returning from foraging, bring several messes of fish. The stew prepared from the fish, while not a gourmet meal, helps revive flagging spirits and strengthen limbs. The party stays a few days to make sure everyone at the village will recover. Before they leave, the thankful village elders gift the party with some of the little they have to give. The handful of coins are refused, but the party does agree to take some of the woolen garments and locally brewed ale, one for the recently denuded to wear, the other to make the miles back to Everlund pass quickly. When they are once more on the Everlund Pass road, they consider themselves fortunate to catch a ride on a passing wagon. The wagon driver, at first suspicious of their motives, quickly warms to them as they agree to buy some of his goods destined for Bell Market in Everlund. Brynn stares at the bar in his hands. “What do I need with *soap*? Especially *scented* soap?!?” Tombit sniffs delicately. “Because, friend dwarf, you, I and all our party smell of rotting vegetables, dirt, acid, and mold. We call *al* use a bath, and this is just the thing for it!” He tosses the bar into the air, catches it, and scampers off before the ranger can take a swing at him. “I’ll show you smelly… *sniff* Hmm, he might have a point there…”</blockquote>

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