To Reclaim the Wild...

[~Corvus~]

A red glow sprouts from this day's dawn to fall over the broken and charred ruins of stone, ashen memories of trees, and scorched hills, and as the light fills the ground it seems to ripple away from its origin. As the sun parts from the peaks and the dramatic red bleeds into brightness, a wind picks up to blow east across the Barrows. The wind gathers the fine grit of blasted wood and magic-wrecked stone, and with its light load, diverts north-and-south as it flows past the blackened mountain-temple of Hollookaan, so named for the sounds the wind had made before the tiled wonder of the Ogres had its facades ripped away. Now the rippling wind, which still ferries its fine, blackened detritus, passes the great temple with wails and soft pattering.

Upwards the wind flows with the sloping landscape, to the north into the marshlands of Dorne, where the soot-and-stone mixes into the waters to feed the many mosses and grasses, the ashflies and tarbeetles, and the hearty-lunged humanoids that inhabit the land. South, too, the wind disperses past temple-mountain Hollookaan, to drift down onto the abandoned buildings, a few of which have seen occupation by a sortie of apprentice-wizards that collect and make many samples: some of the soot, some of the land, some of the insects that live between the Barrows' end and the grassy border that marks the beginning of the Wildwoods.

In the wind-space between what's carved by mountain-temple Hollookaan, where neither marsh-water flows nor soot falls nor grass grows, severe rocks jut at wicked angles amid the barren and cracked space with few other features. Ten humanoids, some in simple robes and others in ringed armor shrouded with grey cloth, plod south across this land. They march solemnly towards the Wild Woods, and four of their group pull a large metal cage that hovers not ten feet from the ground. Every hour, they stop for a short rest and some water. But onwards they trugde, towards the Wildwoods.


https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?441604-The-Edge-of-Humanity-OOC

[Tjallen]

Deciding on observing the mortals as they trudge along with a cage made from steal, Eldranithrin decides that they get a chance to prove themselves worthy of offering toll for passage.
First he sends Liatris, the swindlespitter fond of flowers who has taken him as a companion, to observe them from closer up. Close enough to observe their reactions to wildlife, but far enough that she may still run should problems arise: half a hundred feet of distance. "You must not be caught, tiny Liatris. They must prove their worth. If they do, we shall relieve them of their petty burdens and ease their travels. If they do not we must protect the very land from their taint. Do not be taken in by them, they are but petty tyrants and invaders in our realm." Before he finishes the second sentence of his lecture, the curious dinosaur has already run off. This does not stop the elemental from speaking the rest of his piece, for the very land has ears and it deserves to know what the foolish mortals are up to.

[Tjallen]

Sneakily sneaking stealthily, Liatris sneaks.

[roll0]

[~Corvus~]

As the small beast departs on her charge, she darts between rocks and pauses when she thinks the slow-paced travelers are able to watch her. As she pauses at her fourth rock, a lizard decides her tail would make a delicious snack, and bites. Her hiss is only as brief as the remainder of the lizard's life, but the travelers slow down once oa few of them notice her.

One traveler, curious about the small dinosaur, leans over to feed her some food and inspect her tail's recent bite. But Liatris, unwilling to stay put for the man's ministrations, instead stalks back and forth, rubbing against him like a scaled cat.

Sleight [roll0]
Perception[roll1]
[roll2]

[~Corvus~]

Liatris, almost caught taking the man's coinpurse in her beak, takes a quick turn of her head. A call to the others from one of the scouts pulls attention away from her as she deposits the purse in a foxhole. Although she doesn't understand what they're saying, the charge in their voices are unmistakable. They quicken their southernly pace and, her task sort of done, she quickly returns to Eldranithrin. Purse clutched proudly in beak, she gives a trill of excitement.


22 gold, 13 silver, 12 copper, a small cut diamond [225 gold]

there's also a note written in common humanoid script:
Syrt Uigb. Hogxpvv vz fhr "kkcfhzsiw" Offann utbj. Bfxdjp ty iigp mfj diskii zcsnntl msqv cjy'il zunvaaci oeh tsl dcxl uioc dclv minhlp af xkmrwjiy.

[Tjallen]

Having seen the humans interacting in a friendly manner towards his companion decides that they are worthy of being greeted.
"You have done done so well little Liatris. We shall grant them our boon, let us go talk, see if they deserve admonishment."

And go to them Eldranithrin does, he follows them from a few feet underground, listening in on their conversations for the next half hour, before he decides that talking to the men are in order. Crawling out of the ground a dozen feet from them as they make their next stop.

Before them stands a craggy stone monolith towering 7 feet tall, six stone spikes extruding upwards from the top forming a crude crown of sharp stones almost resembling jagged teeth. Behind the crown the monolith is hollow and the insides is covered in sharp rocks stained with dried blood. Looking down into the insides is like looking into the maw of sentient charnel house. Three stubbly legs protrudes from the bottom of the pillar stone, it's facing hard to make out as there is no clear sign of a singular face.

[~Corvus~]

The robed people have little belongings on them besides the long chains of this floating cage. Five of them carry crooked sticks in their hands whether or not they drag the chain, and each of these five looks feebler than their exertions speak of. Or perhaps the chains and the large cage are very magically light. The ones with cloth-covered ring mail have scabbarded swords on hip and belt. None of them, it seems, are worried about food or water, only the barest of load after suitable protection. They do not all speak with the tenor and baritone voices that suggest a male humanoid nature: some have a softer voice. The content of their conversation stays to a minimum of finding the right land-based bearings for their travel, or catching the reports with two scouts, centaur each. As Eldran watches and listens, the most striking understanding he gets from such a prolonged bout of listening is that they don't have a trust in, or sense of, the land and its layout. More striking, they are definitely searching for very specific landmark items.

YOu have yet to DESCRIBE what this thing looks like in your own words...which is super important! I'll adjust this post as needed but my ASSUMPTION is a jagged rock-thing appears...and that's scary. SO do us a favor and provide some description please!


Eldranithrin's departure from the ground is dramatic to say the least, and elicits several reactions - the people gather various sticks of wood from their hips, and a few gather swords. Some wonder out loud what they did to anger the grounds here, and others simply stare at the bloodrock, weapons ready. A voice calls out to them, "Hold. Let us entreat with this spirit first." The voice is both soft and deep; pleasant, even. "Spirit, we ask that you let us pass through this barren land to the Wildwoods. Do you know much of that forest? We could use a guide such as yourself." The one who speaks, a female, continues, "I am Janna, and we are keen to complete our journey as soon as we can." The others look tense, and appraise the several-mile stretch of terrain that lies between them and the forests into which the Centaur had plunged not long before he started to follow the group. But they lower the guard of their weapons and wait for it to reply.

[Tjallen]

Intoning in a rumble voice, Eldranithrin answers:
"You have come here bearing a contraption of metal, what is your purpose and what have you hidden inside, traveler Janna? Why is the metal denied the touch of its brethren of the earth?"

[~Corvus~]

We float this empty cage because its weight makes our journey faster. There are trees in this forest, some transmuted to metal, by a magic user...we have termed an Artificer. Since the trees are no longer wood, but metal...we have been paid to bring one or two back to a patron so they may study them and learn how this process was achieved.

A few of Janna's companions shift and bow their heads together as they form a semicircle. They mutter comments about scary rock-spirits being the least of their concerns, and add stories about the spirits that haunt the Barrows nearby. The muted conversation concludes in agreement: the less conflict the better, so why not be hopeful about this creature? They quiet and only give uncomfortable glances to the speaking rock.

Another person - this one with a voice familiar to Liatris - asks another person where their pouch might be, and the two of them search the ground on the far side of the floating cage.

[Tjallen]

Turning slightly, the pillar of stone stands up as it looks down at the traveler:
"This... artifice maker has turned the wood to metal, and you wish to take this to your master to learn to replicate this feat of arcane magic, is this correct traveler Janna?"
As he speaks he does a tally of the group, noting who was weapons visible and who looks more like mages than warriors.

[~Corvus~]

The most casual of observations reveal that five of the group have staves and five others bear swords. There are also two centaur who carry bows, but--again--Eldranithin had last seen them riding away to scout further into the Wildwoods. Janna shifts from one foot to another and scratches her head.Well...you see, you'd have to ask our patron what they want to do. They said, and I quote, that they're curious "how the trees were transmuted into metal." They have seen several of them in the forest, but only in passing. The wildwoods...are not safe for most humans to travel, so we've been sent there to find a few of these trees and return them to our patron.

[Tjallen]

"You have offered kindness, tribute, and respect. I will accompany you until nightfall. You will tell me more, about your patron and about yourself. I wish to know about how magic flourishes in the mortal lands."
As he speaks, Eldranithrin studies the group closer, looking for any telltale looks of affronts to the earth and the quality of their warmaking ability.

Spot: [roll0]

[~Corvus~]

With the talking rock's offer, the travelers talk at great length of their origin. Janna and her four fellow travelers tell Eldranithin that they're traders originally from the Regency of Thisk, and that they don't know their patron's true origin, as it is--he claims--to be one not of this world. "He calls himself 'Honest Abdul' and he, too claims to be a trader, but he seems to be in the market for magical objects in particular."

The Centaur, the rock comes to find out, are mercenaries hired from Steosh, and the five swordsmen have worked for the trading company for some time, and hail originally from Versuvia, a fact they are happy to tell Eldranithin, and claim to be reasonably accomplished students of the "ninefold path." The swordsmen each bear light chain beneath their clothing and have scimitars as weapons. They even profess to have had them made in Craaz, the place of shifting earth, where even to this day the land refuses to stay still for longer than a few days before it moves and changes, often revealing raw metals or mineable ore. It is here, the swordsmen claim, that many human nations now jostle and fight in conflict so they, too, can make items from the earth. "Only the Druids and Eladrin of My'Lith'arr know the Old Ways of magic or singing weapons from the earth and plants," one of the sword-bearers--Jonil--says. "...but of course, the wizards in Sodis have changed much in the world. Arcane magic, once learned, is faster and easier to work than growing something by song or waiting even a day's time for one's prayers and offerings to be answered. We of Versuvia have benefitted, too, in that now we can learn runes and ways to empower our crafting of armor and of making metal weapons. Jonil points to his chest. "Metal is much stronger than leather, and I hear we've gained much ground in our campaign overseas. It's humanity's greatest find, other than Arcane Magics itself of course."

Janna gives a look--that Eldranithin spots--when Jonil talks of his weapons and armor, but says nothing. The meaning of the look is beyond his knowledge of humans, but she soon changes the subject from Jonil's conversation. "What of you, rock-spirit? Do you keep names for yourselves, or perhaps titles? What do you think of the changing ways of humankind, the...advancement of some beyond our nomadic ways and learning to reshape the earth?

[Tjallen]

Eldrathrin quietly keeps an eye on Jonil, he will be a fine appeasement to the anger his arrogant ignorance has ignited in the rock.

Walking with the mortals, Eldrathrin keeps his arms immobile, leaving the sharpened points and moveable joints hidden as he listens.
When Janna asks him of his opinion he answers, voice like sand over stone and pebbles falling over rock:
"I am Eldranithrin, youngest of my kind, last of my kind. Humankind is air. Every changing, fleeting, loud. I much enjoyed what little interactions I had with mortals back before they expired, but I do not care for your newfound love for evil and its shortcuts, Traveler Janna. It is nothing less than corruption stretched over decades, centuries, cost borne not by you but by those that come after you. There was a time when you would have burnt the witches and warlocks, the sorcerers and 'artificers', but you let the devils into your midst. Now, the hidden dagger pointed at your throat is held by the hand of your own. This is what I think of your 'advancements', young one. You have forgotten the old ways, and with it the powers to combat evil."

[~Corvus~]

With the bloodrock's expression of opinion, Janna's face darkens and she openly glares at Jonil before regarding Eldranithin with nothing short of a lighter expression. I had not thought any spirits with such a great conviction still walked this land, what with both the Cataclysm of the roost and the subsequent Cleansinng she spits on the ground with a twist of her mouth, and Jonil makes an impassive face. She continues, And as I've told Jonil before--that the plundering of the land is against our nature--he had not believed so, as he is not of the Old Way. She regards Eldranithin warily now, and replies, "The many creatures of the once-great Old Ways, in which humans, too, once lived in harmony with the spirits, as I strive to do with my own tribe, was once good enough for humankind...but ambitions ran amock with a great ability to reproduce and with the discovery of magics. Our patron--this Abdul--seeks to take these trees, a transmuted abomination, each of them, and pay for their replacement with new and healthy ones.

...I admit to you, noble spirit Eldranithin, that the means and weapons of humans such as Jonil rankle myself as much as another being of the wild. I would fight him and his kind had we met not here but in Craaz or the border of our proud My'lith'ar, but alas we are not...and he has pledged his life to aid our cause. Do you have it in you to look past his shortcomings, and aid us in our quest to find these trees?

[Tjallen]

Staring at Janna for several dozens of seconds, Eldranithrin slowly shakes his head.
"I am of Earth, the process of forging those metal weapons is akin to apes ripping the veins out of your own young and flailing them at each other, thinking they are 'better off' for it."
At this Eldranithrin moves one of his arms, displaying the meter long spike that tapers off into a point as sharp as the tip of a needle and slowly sinks it into the earth, effortlessly pushing it halfway into the ground.
"But, your plea young one, it echoes those I once knew, it moves me Traveler Janna. I will offer you my aid, but there will be a cost. You will each present yourself to Liatris and she will decide if our conscious can bear your success."
Before she can answer he slowly moves his arm, pointing at the man that fed Liatris and showed concern for her health.
"That one has already shown worthiness and need not present himself."

[~Corvus~]

Janna nods, and a smile plays about her face as she called out to the many travelers among the group to converge on her. The one who'd lost his coinpurse was one of Jonil's swordbearers, an aged man by the name of Karakuun. When called over, his steps have a lightness that barely register to Eldranithin's highly tuned senses, and his sword-- elegant and sleek--did not appear as any metal the bloodrock had ever seen: it was a rich translucent green with a line of solid pink along the middle of the blade, a pink that might remind it of sunset clouds if the bloodrock ever cared to observe a sunset. Now that he could see the man closer, he wore no armor that it could sense, but his clothes still seemed to shift very little.

Janna explained the situation to the rest of the group: that they'd travel into the wildwoods with Eldranithin's aid, but that some of the group would be paid and released from service effective immediately. Several of the others started to object but they soon quieted under her commanding glare. If we part here, you and your families will still be compensated. A live parting is better than a burial; I will notify our patron of the change and he will take care of the rest. Janna nods to another of her acolytes, who starts the front of a queue that forms: one staff-bearer, three other (metal) sword-bearers, three more staff-wielders, and the final (metal) sword-bearer is none other than Jonil.

As the queue forms, Janna speaks quietly to the bloodrock, I ask your understanding, earth-spirit. Any who offend you or your...your companion will no longer accompany us on this journey.

[Tjallen]

Looking over the gathered lines of people, the bloodrock ducks his body in agreement with Janna.
"I will allow this. Your goal is not a foolish one and I hope you will take my words to heart, even should you be unworthy."
With this said, he gestures for Liatris to join him. When she arrives he waits for a few minutes in silence and stillness as she climbs his body looking for stray bugs, as is her due. Letting any unwise enough to comment on the appearance of Liatris do so.

After a few minutes have passed he gently speaks to the small spindlespitter in Terran, language of the rumbling earth: "Search, find flaw, find the worthy little Liatris"

[Tjallen]

Not really understanding much more than 'search', 'find', and 'worthy', Liatris simply walks up to the first person it sees: Janna, and moseys around while taking in these new and exciting sights. Darting around she pokes her head in where interesting smells or colorful baubles are, accepting any and all petting coming her way.

[~Corvus~]

The others had expected a cultured inspection, but instead Liatris takes many off-guard. Few have ever seen a dinosaur--save the three that had earlier--and so the reactions go from curiosity about Liatris' appearance to relative indifference; several of the sword-bearers had been expecting the beast to do more than just fish for trinkets; they refuse to part with their valuables and shoo her away, if not unkindly. From the lot of people she gets a wooden comb from Janna's chest-pouch, a few ribbons from one sword-bearer, a mostly empty coinpurse--its content she wanted, too, but that sword-bearer only let her have a few shiny copper--a few strips of cured meat sparkling with sugar crystals, a glass-bead bracelet, and finally one dried mushrooms left from a bunch she found delicious, much to the entertainment of the other staff-bearer.

[Tjallen]

While Liatris explores, Eldranithrin carefully scrapes druidic words of warning into a nearby rock, keeping a loose eye on the proceedings. After all, anyone making his companion feel threatened is sure to get an eyeful of poisonous spit.
As he finishes and nobody seems to have been terminally stupid he rumbles at Janna:
"Liatris seems to thrive, good. She is still but a hatchling and I would very much like to see her revitalize the population. Do you have any questions, Traveler Janna, before we set out? Your people has passed this trial, so for now you can freely expect my goodwill."

'The humans have despoiled the trees of the wildwood, turning them into metal. The pact of separation have been broken. Do not trust the mortals with guarding metal or corruption for their greed will cause them to take up both.
Eldrathrin of the Bloodtinge.'

[~Corvus~]

Eldranithin's druidic markings take a little time to record.
The humans have despoiled the trees of the wildwood, turning them into metal. The pact of separation have been broken. Do not trust the mortals with guarding metal or corruption for their greed will cause them to take up both.
Eldrathrin of the Bloodtinge.'

I headcannon Druidic as a signal language that doesn't have a word-for-word translation for complex ideas. Branches, twigs, seeds, wet leaves, scat arranged into vague symbols; markings on trees--usually temporary--moss-alterations on rocks...these things convey ideas, not words, which is part of how Druidic has been preserved as a SECRET language, and cannot simply be learned by anyone.

Trees of this wood become metal. Humans(uncertain) break oaths. Call a Grove [A gathering of Druids; the Wildwoods are already guarded by wild beasts and other Druids against Human approach]

- Symbol for Eldrathrin of the Boodtinge, which is...?


Janna's eyebrows raise when she's told that she had no one to dismiss, but she tells Eldranithin that she wanted a few moments to think, which gave the Bloodrock a little more time to reflect on and perhaps be certain of its Druidic message. She summons Karakuun, whose grey beard and weathered face contrasted with his aura of great vitality. They talk for a little bit, and conclude that the party would enter the Wildwood in pairs--swordsman with staff-wielder--and everyone would remain in eyeshot of another pair; the elder swordsman felt most comfortable alone, but would trail Janna and Eldranithin, giving them a reasonable distance.

[Tjallen]

Thinking a bit on his message, he decides to add in that the grove is not just a grove, but a vengeance grove. Making it clear that someone should die for this. As he finishes pondering he adds his symbol: A vortex of spikes.

As he finishes he walks to Janna, each step causing the earth to rumble and shake.
"Ah, Traveler Janna, I fear gentle Liatris is more curious about you than wrathful. I apologize for not culling your weak at this time, you have done well in keeping your flock alive, may it not let the unworthy fester in your laurels. When the weak becomes a burden, I will gladly relieve you of it."

[~Corvus~]

One of the other staff-wielders notices Eldranithin's little pondering around the rock and lingers to watch, but doesn't say anything. Janna nods quietly to the bloodrock but gives no reaction other than a curt thanks. She turns, instead, to the three Centaur, each of whom have emerged from the woods and have cantered towards the others.

Chasing them, hot on their hooves, are roughly twenty horses with fire instead of hair and, once clear of the forest, these horses' hooves emit a thick smoke that strangely doesn't rise into the air quickly at all. They make little noise other than their determined run, a little slower than the practiced pace of the centaur scouts. Janna, looking resigned to her fate, nods to the others around her and they all begin their own individual chants. Soon each of their skin looks like bark and their gnarled staves seem much more resilient and substantial. The swordsmen, each with their blades drawn, fill in to one side and turn their blades to catch the mid-day sun, whose reflection does little to deter the oncoming rush of the flaming horses, which holds a particular menace for the group in their hurry.

[Tjallen]

Looking at the flaming horses, Eldranithrin tries to place them as he draws upon the ground and the air, preparing to siphon the warmth out of the air and into the ground.

Knowledge nature to figure out if these are some nature beings, if yes, try talking with the things about leaving the ones not wearing metal alone.
If no, use now cold air to cast obscuring snow (https://dndtools.org/spells/frostburn--68/obscuring-snow--1259/) and siphoned heat to throw an entangle (https://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/entangle.htm)at them when they are within 60 ft so the plants start 30 ft behind them and stretch to 50ft in front of them, with a dc 15 reflex save.

[Tjallen]

Knowledge nature: [roll0]

[~Corvus~]

The bloodrock knows these magical beasts are headstrong and difficult to handle or persuade, but it's possible to do.

[Tjallen]

While not entirely unwilling to let the beasts defend their home, Eldranithrin decides that they should perhaps be diverted to more acceptable targets, namely the metalwielders.
Raising himself taller and using his arm to seem even larger, The Bloodrock imparts the consequences of attacking the ones not wielding swords to the horses, that consequence being upsetting the large and territorial rock.

Wild Empathy: [roll0] To have the flaming horses target the swordwielders only.

[~Corvus~]

The wild beasts heave and snort with a supernatural vigor, and their only course-alteration is to give Eldranithin 40' of berth as they charge forward. The air fills with a thick smoke that makes many of the humanoids hack and choke. Loud whinnies echo out as Eldranithin hears the chunch of bone, the flash of fire and the sound of steel sinking into flesh.

The area is filled with a thick, magical smoke. Anyone without BLINDSIGHT cannot see except to 5' in front of them, but TREMORSENSE works to sense general creature locations.

[Tjallen]

Having done as well as he could with his fairly lacking social skills, Eldranithrin realizes a very important detail: His sense have been dulled, his sense of the earth muted and useless. The rock points forming his 'crown' having taken on the more aggressive nature of a projectile has apparently rendered them rather inefficient at picking up the whispers of the earth.

Finding himself blinded, the bloodrock slowly ambles towards where he last saw Traveler Janna, marbleing for Liatris to join him in the defense of the human.

[~Corvus~]

The bloodrock finds itself amidst a brutal melee and despite its trajectory bumps into a furious horse, which then kicks out instinctively to attack it.

[roll0]proceeds if >50

Eldranathin feels a rush of air before its rocky form, and the fiendish creature's wild form bucks and kicks. It connects instead with Janna, whose grunt greets the brutal slam with as much dignity as she can muster.

She takes 2d12 +1d8 fire, leading to 19 bludgeoning & 8 Fire or 27 damage.


Around Eldranithin sounds of magical discharge, the sounds of swords slashing at flesh, and most of all the fury of wild beasts wash over the area. Several shouts of humanoids ring out at once:
"Find Janna!" "conjure Wind!"
"Rally here!"
"We need WIND!" "It's suppressed!"
Amid the flurry of excitement, a small clicking followed by a trill that signals both fear and defiance from its dinosaur companion, rings out behind Eldranithin, roughly ten feet away.

[Tjallen]

Annoyed with the creature, Eldranithrin prepares to strike the offender down, before he hears the trill and abandons the motion. Rushing towards the sound he readies himself to strike out at anyone or anything that dares to harm his desert flower.

Eldranithrin rushes towards where the sound is, if he can reasonably tell what is threatening his companion he will strike out with all three arms against it:
In case percentages, with high rolls being good:
1st: [roll0] hit: [roll]1d20+6/roll] for [roll1]
2nd: [roll2] hit: [roll]1d20+6/roll] for [roll3]
3rd: [roll4] hit: [roll]1d20+6/roll] for [roll5]

[Tjallen]

Frustrated with the snow blocking his view of the humans and fiendish beasts being put down like the semi-rabid animals they are, the Bloodrock rumbles to the earth and listens for an answer, but alas a clear one is not forthcoming.

1st: [roll0] rolled a die to confirm, it was a 19 so 19+6=25 to confirm.
2nd:[roll1]
3rd:[roll2]

[~Corvus~]

One of the nightmare beasts screams as it's impaled on the Bloodrock's spines. It twists and curls, injuring itself further, but with its proximity the bloodrock is reminded of the beast's danger. It trains the one eye it can on the Bloodrock, and its firey mane curls toward the bloodrock furiously.


Nightmares take no miss chance on their elemental attacks.
[roll0] Touch & on hit: [roll1] fire, halved on a miss.


Nearby, the trills of Eldranithin's small companion go quiet. The bloodrock realizes that the creature's heart is pounding furiously, but not out of immediate danger, and that the heartbeat is strong.

The sounds of battle continue as the other Nightmares and the swordspeople continue their smoke-ridden struggle