The nights are definitely getting cooler. The blaze in
the firepit is no longer for just light and cheer. Kelloran, Stone and
Thomas have pulled up benches and chairs close to the flames and are
enjoying the evening.
Earlier that day Thomas had been gathering alchemical
supplies and discovered a barrel of stout ale hidden within a hollowed out
tree. He pulled the barrel out and to his surprise a second barrel
appeared. He gave the second cask a pull but it would not budge for him.
Stone was just down the hill from where he was. There was some sort a weird
fungus killing trees which the druid wanted to take a look at. Safety in
numbers and all that.
Stone had taken some samples of the dark red mold and
was just about to commune. His mind was beginning to fill with green and the
voices of the trees whispered.....
"HEY STONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! COME
HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", bellowed Thomas from the hilltop.
Sighing Stone rose and climbed the hill with fragments
of the forest mind flittering about his thoughts. After checking for
curses, which there were none, he lifted the second keg out of the tree.
It too was magically replaced.
"Cool, huh?" said the tall crafter.
"Never seen one of these before. Think we should..."
The green voice.... what had it said..... something... said ......
DANGER!!! Stone slammed an arm into Thomas's chest and drew Thorn.
Knocked back, Thomas caught his foot on one of the casks and fell. Pitching
over backwards saved his life. He heard a bizarre sound then felt something
scream through the spot he had just been standing in. A section of the tree
exploded behind him. He started to roll to his feet, quickly assessing the
situation. Stone was charging towards a pair of goblins but off to his
right another goblin was bringing a weapon to bear on him. It looked like a
crossbow but massive and mal-formed. Thomas ripped a fist sized stone from
the ground and hurled it. The rock struck the goblin in the shoulder
ricocheting to graze its skull. The bolt shot from the crossbow awry enough
to miss Stone. Splinters were blasted from a pine a few feet ahead of the
druid. The sharp fragments cut his arms and face throwing off his balance.
Before his foes could decide between attacking and fleeing a huge crack
reported from behind Thomas. The far goblin cried out a warning and bolted,
followed by the two others.
"OH SHIT!!!" swore the two adventurers in concert.
Having lost a large section of trunk to the first bolt,
the hollowed tree was coming down. FAST! Another crack sounded and the
canopy began to twist. Thomas gave the two overturned kegs a shove towards
the hill and then leapt down it himself. If they made it great but avoiding
getting flattened was a somewhat higher priority. Stone glanced up, made a
quick choice of direction and bounded down the hill after Thomas.
The top of the big old tree ripped branched from its
neighbors, hurling them in all directions. Both Stone and Thomas were
nearly impaled a number of times. Finally the tearing sounds ended with a
deafening crash. As the rustling quieted the sound of the retreating
goblins cackling with glee reached the two men.
"Gods I hate those vermin!!" Stone swore.
"Where the hell did they get those crossbows? Probably
takes a dozen of the little shits to load one."
"Maybe. Did you see how misshapen they were? They
looked more like they were grown than carved. Arboleth made them. Good
chance they are blessed by the old DemonTree. They definitely are way
stronger than anything that slip-shod looking should be. He might have made
them easier to reload too. We need to warn the others. Those things could
tear a limb off. Simple healings won't help that."
Thomas looked up the hill and to his surprise saw the
kegs had not rolled far enough to gain speed and split open against a tree
but far enough from the fallen tree to escape.
So after a day like that, evening finds the two sitting
by the fire. Thomas' keg turned out to be mead not stout as he first
thought. Stone’s, surprisingly, was a perfect hard cider. Kelloran had
joined them as they returned to town, healing the cuts in Stone's cheek and
arms. Feeling mellow talk turns from friends who will be wintering in
FallenStar to those who have decided to travel to Dryad lands or other such
places less locked down by ice and snow. Thomas has elected to stay and
winter is good time to work on those long distillations. Stone still wants
to uncover what the burgundy fungus is and how to stop it. Kelloran
decision came from the Gods. His prayers have been interlaced lately with
strange scenes. He has been working with Chells to try and resolve what
they are.
"Where is Chells? I haven't seen him for weeks."
Thomas remarks
"Well you won't during the day much any more. I think
he has finally succumbed to batdom. Mind if I borrow a dust?"
"Sure what kind?"
"Let me just see your belt-pouch and you'll see."
Thomas shrugs and unclips his dust bag. Kelloran roots
through is for a second, uncorks one and flings an orange cloud into the
air.
"HEY CHELLS!!!", he calls
Chells floats into town. His shadow is just a smoky
darkening as most of the moonlight passes through his spectral body. Thick
black chains cover him from wrist to elbow almost like bracers.
"hEy gUys" he hails in a ghostly voice. "wHaT aRe yOu
tHRee uP tO?"
"Chells. What happened? How did you die?" Stone asks
dumbfounded.
"He's not dead."
Kelloran interjected. "I tried raising him yesterday. He has
figured out a way to become a spirit and ...when was the last time you were
flesh?"
"JuSt yEsTeRdAy.
I cAn'T SeEm To StAy ThIs wAy
iNdEfInAtElY. iT's So CoOl ThOuGh. tHeRe iS sO mUcH mOrE tO sPiRiTuAlItY
aNd WiLl ThAn I hAd EvEr GuEsSeD."
"Well grab some mead or cider, pull up a dead log and
join us. Kelloran was just about to tell us of his visions." Thomas quips
"vErY fUnNy." Chells replies with a phantom chuckle.
He sits cross-legged about a yard off the ground. His hands shape around a
tankard none of the rest of his friends can see from which he sips at times.
"Ok Kelloran. Start from the beginning." Stone prompts.
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