The Spiderwood is a rather small, though dense forest to the south and west of Riverside. It takes its name from a native variety of small, green-gold spiders who spin elaborate, delicate webs. The venom of these spiders is known to be mildly toxic, though seldom fatal.
There are lumberers that work the wood, and several farmers who maintain large farms of root vegetables that benefit from excellent soil quality. One such farmer is Chadwick, famous for turnips of exceptional size and quality.
Chadwick has farmed the Spiderwood for a decade, living on a humble farmstead near the wood. He knows the forest trails well, and on a typical afternoon walk, he encountered something altogether surprising--a small grove of poplars in a ring, surrounding a dilapidated hut, in front of which boiled a huge black cauldron over an open flame.
Confident that he was neither lost, nor had the grove been there on walks past, Chadwick made to investigate the hut, but was confronted by a pair of hags who charged forth from the hut with cudgels, threatening to boil the skin from his back and, as Chadwick reports, still terrified from the encounter, "To turn me into a newt!" Gripped by fear that Chadwick insists was supernatural, he fled the grove.
Some of the townsfolk who live nearest the Spiderwood, especially a few lumberers who camp nearest Chadwicks farm, are concerned--hushed conversations of witches dominates the common rooms of taverns and homes, and there are rumors of folks planning to gather to "burn the witches out of the Spiderwood."
Witches are wise and knowledgeable beings; perhaps they know something of the blighted goblins. I am sure it is perfectly safe, so we should go visit them (they didn’t poly-morph the farmer after all). The only question is: what do we have to barter with for their help? A task / quest? Baked sweets? Blood of a half-orc? Rare herbs / minerals? An exquisite magical item? Let’s go see!
ReplyDeleteI say we hide in the shadows and watch their practices. Some witches are wise and knowledgeable, others are friends with the evils in the world. Until we can spy a conclusion then assume you are only bartering with your life.
ReplyDeleteInvestigating the Spiderwood, you can't help but pass near Chadwick's farm--it's just off the main trail. The land all around his farm is tilled and mounded up, and the sprouts of tiny turnips are poking through the dirt. You can't help that it might be a good idea to consult him, as the Spiderwood has a fell reputation (aside from the witches, of course) and the wood is dense. Without a tracker, a map, or perhaps a guide, you could easily get lost.
ReplyDeleteSeveral lumbermen are at the edge of the forest as you approach, and their actions are rather odd. They are leaving small offerings of food--small burlap bags of grain, root vegetables, bottles of wine--at the base of a few trees.
One of them notices your approach and greets you, introducing himself as Rudyard. "The trees of this wood have eyes, some walk, and aye, they have memory too." He looks at some of your gear, as well as your bladed weapons. "Be careful when baring steel or starting fire in the wood. We pay respect to the trees--we choose only the dying, and that's why we leave our offering. If we come back the next day and the offering is gone, we know it has been accepted, and the forest allows us to tend to its dying." He points to a large cart, laden with several fallen forest giants, trimmed of branches and stripped of foliage. "Beware the wood--we hear there are witches in its depths." Several of the lumbermen bring closed fists to their mouths--perhaps a religious or superstitious gesture--and then return to their business. Rudyard, unless you have any questions for him, departs to rejoin his men.
Daisy runs to catch up to Rudyard as he departs. "Rudyard, thank you, we will heed your warning of bladed weapons and fire. Our Druid will certainly be sure we honor the trees as you clearly do. We are unfamiliar with these woods and wish to investigate what it has to offer in wisdom and history, but we wish not to wonder into the paths of...the witches" Daisy lowers her voice when saying witches then mimics the the hand to mouth gesture some had previously done. She continues, "Might you be able to draw a map of any trails noting where...they...may be so we can avoid?"
Delete*Nash dawns his best elderly druidic disguise complete with musky earth odors, walking staff, raspy voice and stuffed chipmunk*
DeleteLeaning heavily on his staff he approaches the tree where the offerings were laid. He places his palm against the trunk of the tree and stoops into deep meditation (all the while getting a closer look at the items left as offering). Mmmmmmmmmmmm, Nash groans. “The young man speaks the truth, there is great unrest amongst the ancients. Something has disturbed their peace,” Nash lies.
Suddenly Nash convulses and falls backward to the ground, gasping in feigned shock. “All may be worse than I supposed,” Nash sputters. The elderly Nash accepts Daisy’s kind help, his brow furrowed in concern as he regains his feet. “The people of this valley may well be facing dangerous times,” Nash croaks, pointing an accusing finger toward Rudyard. “Will you abandon your families and flee or do you have the heart to withstand the darkness of this age?”
Nash reaches into his pouch and withdraws a handful of ordinary soil while subtly putting dried flower petals in his other hand. “Quiet your spirit and listen for the forests call for help,” Nash dramatically casts the soil into the air (in an obviously magical way) and quietly invokes magical gibberish. “Eatu foodu yumu goodu.”
“Close your eyes, can you sense the call?” Nash ask as he secretly begins to crush the flower petals. “We can help you, but will you help us? Will you help these lands that have already been so generous to you?”
Granny walks up to Nash and gives him one swift whack with her staff. "Don't disrespect these woods. No good shall come of it."
DeleteAs a little trickle of blood runs down Nash's forehead, Granny bends down and plucks a leaf from a nearby plant and begins chewing it.
I have a feeling that Nash may die a horrible death next session.
ReplyDelete*Breaks out the lute*
DeleteIs death all that will await
those who dare to tempt fate?
be him bold
or even rash
the bards shall sing
of one named Nash
only time will tell
so wait and see
if this man can shape
his own destiny.