#yes his beak is overgrown and yes we’re working on that

[outer-edges]

nothing quite like stress googling things about your russian tortoise to at 1:30AM the night before a big exam at 9:00AM

[sharktoraptor]

Cross-posting this chapter to tumblr because I’m particularly happy with it! Comments make my day, so if you like it be sure to let me know here or on Ao3 ^^

This is for the prompt “Sky Week,” and oh boy does it have loftwings in it.

---

 They’ve come to know that being lost lost means that they’re headed somewhere new.

 It puts some of the older heroes on edge, but Wind is fine with it, really. It’s kind of exciting, exploring all of these new lands, and maybe they’ll be somewhere with a real body of water this time, not that little puddle Twilight called a lake. The transition between Hyrules is usually pretty smooth, so he’s put himself on lookout duty to figure out where they are.

 He’s right up front with Sky and Hyrule, scanning the trees for clues of their new location, and he sees the statue a second before Sky does.

 “Oh!” Gasps Sky, running forward as Wind opens his mouth to point it out. He reaches the statue, a tall stone bird untouched by the moss covering the surrounding trees, and beams at it.

 A bird? Oh! “That’s a loftwing!” realizes Wind, matching Sky’s description to the real thing. He looks up at Sky for confirmation.

 “Yes! This is my Hyrule. But this statue, I haven’t seen-” Sky reaches out and touches the bird on the tip of the beak, and the base of the statue lights up at the contact. He gives a little laugh of delight and looks back down at Wind.

 “I’ll be right back.”

 Wind scrambles backwards as a pillar of wind erupts around the statue. Sky opens his sailcloth and it snaps open above his head, whisking him away into the air. Someone shouts in surprise, but as quickly as the updraft sprung into existence, it’s gone, and so is Sky. Wind peers upwards through the trees, but what he can make out through the branches is hidden by a layer of thick clouds.

 “Where’d he go?” Asks Hyrule, neck craned backwards to stare at the sky.

 “Up,” says Wild unhelpfully, doing the same.

 Warriors rolls his eyes. “He’s coming back down,” he reports, pointing.

 Wind steps back to make room and Sky lands next to him a moment later, still beaming. “Come on,” he says. “We’re going to the sky.”

 Wild hops forward, and Wind reaches for his deku leaf, but no one else moves. “Um,” says Four, “Most of us can’t… do that.”

 Sky waves a hand. “Don’t worry, a friend of mine is up there. I had a feeling he might be. He has an airshop, he can ferry us all from where we are to Skyloft.”

 “Oh, like Beedle,” says Wind, thinking back on the New Hyrulian’s air balloon.

 Wild glances at him. “You have a Beedle too?”

“It’s Beedle,” confirms Sky- it’s happened so many times that it’s not a surprise anymore, to hear familiar names between them. “Everyone hold on to me, Wild, or Wind. The statue should be strong enough to carry us all up together.”

 This Beedle’s airshop isn’t quite like the one that Wind remembers, and he has an uneasy feeling that it’s not really meant to carry more than one person, much less ten, but soon enough they’re all aboard and cruising through the sky. If not for the lack of water it would really be a lot like sailing, thinks Wind, squinting into the distance at a huge island that’s slowly getting closer. It seems weird, too, for the merchant to be out here so far away from “land.”

 “He’s not really supposed to be up here at all,” explains Sky, when he asks. “We’ve been living on the surface for a few years, but Beedle brings his airshop up sometimes to catch bugs that only live on Skyloft.”

 “Why isn’t he supposed to be here?”

 Sky gives him a small, sad smile. “It’s hard, but we have to transition to life on the surface. Everyone knows that, so we live down there exclusively now.”

 He turns his gaze back out to sea- to air?- and Wind leans his head against the taller hero’s side. Sky wraps an arm around his shoulders and gives him an affectionate squeeze, and they stand there in silence for a while as the island in the distance draws nearer.

“There it is,” says Sky excitedly, lightly shaking Wind out a doze he hadn’t realized he’d fallen into. “There’s Skyloft!”

 The airshop tilts alarmingly as the others crowd the bow of the shop, taking in the sight in front of them. Wind is so awed by the sheer size of the floating island that he barely registers Sky stiffening beside him, but he looks up in time to see a huge smile spreading across his face.

 “Sky?” It turns into a yelp of alarm. “Sky!”

 He reaches out but it’s too late- before anyone can stop him, Sky takes a running leap of the deck of the shop. They run to the edge, yelling his name, but all that’s left is the faint sound of a piercing whistle drifting up from below.

  WHOOSH  

 The bird is so massive that the beat of its wings rocks the airshop, and for a second Wind’s vision is completely taken up by the bright, crimson red of its feathers. Warriors catches his arm as he reels back and away from the edge, struggling to keep the it in sight.

 The bird- it’s a loftwing! It must be!- corkscrews upwards in a brilliant swirl of scarlet and white, flaring its wings and diving back down towards them.

 On its back, Sky is laughing ecstatically.

 ---

 When they finally land on solid ground, Beedle points them in the direction of the plaza before wandering off in the opposite direction. There they find Sky and his loftwing sitting on the ground, cuddling as much as one can cuddle with a bird half the size of the Helmaroc King. He’s stroking its neck while it preens at his hair, making rumbling clucking sounds as it does so. Sky looks up at their approach, and the loftwing mantles its wings, clacking its huge beak threateningly.

 “This is my loftwing,” says Sky happily and unnecessarily once he’s calmed the bird down. “Sorry about that, it’s been a few years since I last saw him, so I jumped as soon as I felt our bond come into range.” He untangles himself from the mass of feathers and pushes himself to his feet. The loftwing stands too, towering above them. Sky keeps his hand on its side and smiles at them. “Welcome to Skyloft. I would love to show you all around.”

 There are loftwings everywhere. There are clusters of them on every overgrown rooftop, and Wind feels their intense eyes on the group as they pass. Some of the birds are bathing in the lake or simply strolling along the paths, but most of them are in flight, casting shadows over their heads and encircling the giant statue of the goddess with a cocoon of rainbow feathers.

 Wild is in awe of the goddess statue, so Sky leads the others a few paces away and starts pointing out other landmarks, giving him a moment alone. Wind lags behind a little, trying to look in every direction at once. There’s so much      happening    .

 “Wind, Twilight, come over here!”

 Hm? Oh. He’s not the only slow one; Twilight is behind him. “Coming!” Hollers Wind, and stops to let him catch up. Twilight sighs and quickens his pace, and Wind matches it as they head towards the others.

 The older hero looks faintly distressed. “I’m probably wrong,” he mutters under his breath before Wind can ask. “I think it’s the same place, but… it’s a coincidence. Surely.”

 Wind taps his arm, and Twilight jumps. “Are you okay?”

 “Don’t tell Sky,” says Twilight immediately, and refuses to elaborate.

 Sky and Four are petting a purplish blue loftwing, which nudges Sky affectionately on the shoulder and takes off as Wind and Twilight approach. “Look,” says Sky, pointing. “See where she’s flying? There are some wild golden loftwings over there. They’re smaller than average and they can’t fly very long distances, but they’re one of the smartest lines. They’re not the most likely to bond with a Hylian, but we used them in games and ceremonies. It’s nice to see them living here!”

 Twilight crosses his arms and frowns with an almost angry expression, and shakes his head vigorously when Time asks what’s wrong. Oblivious, Sky keeps walking along the path, chatting happily to Warriors and Legend about the brightly painted bazaar.

 Wind is even more curious now, but he’s distracted when Sky stops dead and gasps dramatically. “But wait! We’re in Skyloft, and we haven’t even found your loftwings yet!”

 There’s an uncomfortable silence. “We don’t have loftwings,” says Legend finally, glancing at the others.

 Sky shrugs. “Everyone has a loftwing. That’s like saying you don’t have a soul- you haven’t met them yet, but once you do, you’ll feel it.” He reaches up and scratches his loftwing on the underside of its beak, smiling. “Usually you would meet your bird under the Goddess statue, but there are a lot of you. Let’s go get Wild, and then we’ll head back to the plaza.”

 ---

 “Okay, call to your loftwings!”

 “...How?” Shouts Warriors, over the sound of the wind.

 “It’s hard to explain! You have to whistle, but it’s a specific whistle. It’s yours and your loftwing’s. Mine is this-” Sky brings his hand to his mouth and whistles out three sort-of notes.  La sol do, thinks Wind. Sky’s loftwing is already next to him, but its tail uncurls and recurls a few times as though in response. “-And your loftwing will find you!”

 Wind doesn’t really want to be the first to try, because what if he messes it up? But no one else seems to be doing anything, so he starts wracking his brain for something he can use as a loftwing whistle. What’s his whistle?

 Twilight rescues him. He bends over and plucks a piece of long, overgrown grass from a crack in the plaza’s stonework, and holds it to his lips. Do sol do sol.

There’s a long pause as the sound fades out, and Twilight looks around expectantly.

 “Try it again,” Sky encourages.

 Apparently the grass isn’t loud enough for Twilight’s liking, because he casts it aside and whistles again on his own. Do sol do sol.

  La do sol do sol.

 The answering call cuts through the wind with astounding clarity, and a black loftwing alights on the platform next to them, looking at Twilight with its head cocked to one side. It’s not as impressively large as Sky’s is, but Wind sees something like awe flicker in Twilight’s eyes when he looks at it.

 “Where did you get that whistle from?” Asks Legend, when Sky has walked Twilight through the next steps and he’s patting his new loftwing happily.

 “Oh, I used to use it to call to hawks. It’s a traditional Ordonian whistle.” Twilight’s bird nudges at his hand and he resumes petting it, wearing an expression that he usually reserves for puppies and other small animals. “I wondered if it might work, and I’m glad it did.”

 Well, if that worked… “I have a song like that too,” says Wind, digging in his pouch for the spirit flute. “For littler birds, but maybe-” He finds the instrument, blows into it experimentally, and is rewarded with a soft, clear note.

 “Me too,” says Four, pulling out an ocarina. “This ocarina has ties to a place called the Palace of Winds. I’ll bet it works here.” Legend is nodding agreement, rummaging through his own bag.

 “I know something similar,” says Time thoughtfully, but whatever he tries is covered up by Wild’s piercing horse whistle. Sky looks mildly offended, but the small brown loftwing that barrels out of the sky in response silences his protest. A tall, forest green bird with piercing blue eyes touches down next to Time, somehow wearing an almost identically exasperated expression.

 Wind turns his attention back to the spirit flute. He takes a deep breath, double checks the notes in his memory, and plays the song of birds as loudly as he can. Do ti do. He waits thirty seconds, then plays it again.

Sky said whistle… Maybe an instrument won’t work? Looking around, he can see that Four (sol la sol fi fa me) and Legend (sol do re sol re mi), both holding ocarinas, don’t seem to be having much luck either. Whistling it is, then. Wind returns the spirit flute to its secure spot in his bag, then inhales deeply and whistles as loud as he can. DO TI DO.  

 He can whistle really loud.

 A loftwing abducts him

 One second he’s standing on the ground, waiting expectantly while everyone looks around wildly for the source of his whistle, and the next he’s suspended in the air by his armpits. He looks up, but all he can see is a feathery white underbelly as the bird holding him securely around the shoulders lifts him away from the plaza.

  Aw man. Not again.  

 He realizes it’s not flying away with him when it banks hard and swoops back over the plaza. His friends are all pointing and probably yelling, though he can’t hear them over the wind in his face. Warriors has his swords out, because of course he does, but the steel grey loftwing beside him looks at best mildly curious of what’s happening. Sky is clapping and looks patently delighted, and Wind tries to meet his eye and give him a thumbs up a second before the loftwing drops him flat on his face.

 It lands next to him, squawking excitedly, and a heavy, fluffy weight settles down on his back before Wind can move.

 “Ow,” he mumbles into the wood.

 “Aw, that’s adorable,” says Sky’s voice above him. He hears a slight creak at his side as the other hero crouches next to him. “She’s so small! She’s probably young enough that she doesn’t remember Hylians living here, but she still knows that she’s supposed to protect you. Come on, girl,” he says encouragingly to the loftwing. “Let him up so he can meet you properly!”

 The bird makes a pleasant trilling sound and the weight on his back disappears. Wind rolls over onto his back, and there’s a big shoe-shaped beak in his face, so he doesn’t try to sit up. “Hi,” he says from the ground. “My name’s Link, but that gets confusing around here, so you can call me Wind.” He reaches up and strokes her bright blue feathers tentatively, and she leans into his touch. “How do you know she’s a girl?”

 “Their tails curl more than the males when they’re perched,” says Sky, helping him up. “They’re usually the bigger ones of their lines, but she’s young, so it’s harder to tell. Alright,” he says, to the group at large. “Who wants to try flying?”

 “Not like that!” Calls Legend. The almost white-grey loftwing next to him glances toward Wind’s bird and flexes one taloned foot experimentally.

 “No, not like that,” laughs Sky, and takes a running jump off the edge of the plaza.

 Wind’s expecting it, but there’s another bout of alarmed yells from some of the others before the crimson loftwing launches into the air and streaks after its Hylian. The pair swoops back into view a moment later, hovering a few feet above and away from the launchpad. “Who’s first?”

 “ME!” Yells Wild, and all Wind sees is the blue blur of his tunic as he launches himself into the open air.

 “For Hylia’s- Don’t forget to whistle!” Yells Sky, as Wild’s brown loftwing hastily throws herself after him, plummeting out of sight. It takes longer for them to reappear, but Wild is grinning like an idiot when they come back up. His bird looks exasperated, if birds can look exasperated.

 Sky runs a hand through his hair. “You have to give your loftwing time to react. I can do that because we’ve been bonded for so long, but it was a bad example, sorry.” Wild has the sense to look sheepish, but his loftwing squawks defiantly and does an extra lap around the plaza before she lands.

 Twilight and Four volunteer next, and it goes well for them. Four’s green loftwing returns to the plaza after it catches him, but Twilight stays in the air and heads off to fly around a bit on his own, muttering something about having a “chat” with the golden loftwings, and he doesn’t clarify what he means before wheeling his bird around and darting off. He’s followed by Hyrule and Wild, who seems to have gotten paired with a loftwing as crazy as he is, because she waits even longer to catch him this time.

 Legend goes next and is settled quickly, his loftwing already airborne and ready to catch him, and he hovers in the air next to Sky, yelling down at Warriors, who is taking forever to jump. Time and his loftwing seem content to sit together under the shade of a tree with Four and his, but Warriors is determined, as always, if weirdly hesitant. Wind is about ready to push him by the time he finally leaps from the platform, and then it’s finally his turn.

 His loftwing is his excitement made visible. She’s wiggling like a cat about to pounce, squawking with her wings half spread. Wind looks down at the empty sky beneath him, swallowing his nerves. He has his deku leaf, and he knows that Sky will catch him if his bird misses- that’s why he’s going last- but it’s still kind of alarming to be suddenly falling at terminal velocity.

 Sky and his loftwing are plummeting down beside him as a scarlet blur, yelling something. Oh! I have to whistle! The wind carries the sound away, hopefully to where his bird can hear it. The clouds are getting awfully close.

 He flaps his arms futily and all it does is make him rotate, and suddenly there’s a beak in his face. The blue loftwing has her wings folded in a dive, and she’s looking at him curiously. And upside down.

 “Hi!” He yells at her. “Catch me, please!” Apparently she’s just remembered that too, because she suddenly swoops under him and snaps her wings out. He hits feathers, and his momentum tumbles them down together for a terrifying moment before Sky’s loftwing swoops underneath them, supporting Wind’s until she gets her bearing and pulls away.

 When she swoops upwards his stomach drops exhilleratingly, and then she dives back down to gather speed and it feels like being aboard the King of Red Lions for the first time all over again. They’re flying! And it’s great!

 Wind gives a little whoop as his loftwing crests the edge of Skyloft, and she circles a few times before mirroring Legend’s loftwing and trying to hover.

 “How do you like it?” Calls Legend, leaning easily with his loftwing like he’s been doing it his whole life.

 “It’s great!” Hollers Wind. “You?!”

 “Beats walking! Wanna go find ‘Rule and Wild?”

 Sky’s loftwing glides up from below them, and now Wind can really appreciate how huge it is, and how in sync they are. It caught his loftwing like she weighed nothing, and there’s not a crimson feather out of place. “They went towards the waterfall,” shouts Sky. “Good job, Wind! Lean in the direction you want to go, she’ll get the hang of it!”

 They fly around Skyloft for a bit- it’s a city meant to be appreciated from the air, and Sky takes them on a tour that shows the island from a completely different perspective. They find Wild, Hyrule, and their loftwings settled down on a smaller island with water cascading down from it, all four soaked to the skin and laughing.

 “Wild’s loftwing flew through the waterfall,” says Hyrule, grinning as they land. “Mine thought that was a great idea, but I think they’re too wet to fly now.”

 The crimson loftwing looks up from grooming Wind’s and clatters its beak chidingly at Wild’s bird. She ducks her still damp head and squawks back, then flops over onto her side, bowling a laughing Wild to the ground and pinning him.

 The sun paints the clouds a thousand colors as it sinks over the horizon, and the loftwings’ feathers reflect rainbows. Wind presses against his loftwing for warmth in the cool evening air, and she coos and starts combing through his hair with the tip of her beak.

 Legend sits up from where he’s leaning against his bird’s folded wing and stretches. “It’s getting late,” he says, glancing at Sky. “Are we staying here?”

 “...No,” decides Sky after a moment. “Beedle will be going back to the surface as night falls, and we should go with him. Most of you don’t have a way down, otherwise.”

 Legend nods. “I’ll go find Twilight and check in with the others, then.”

 “You can meet my Zelda,” says Sky wistfully, as Legend flies off. “I can’t wait to see her again.”

 His voice is excited but sad, and Wind suddenly realizes that they arrived in his Hyrule and went straight to the sky. He could already be with his Zelda, but they’re here instead. “You must really miss this,” says Wind quietly, scooting over to sit next to him.

 “Mm. Yeah,” says Sky. His loftwing nudges him, and he leans his cheek against its beak, cradling its head with a soft smile. “We hid away the statues by our new town, on the surface. Everyone agreed to it, but it’s still hard. Living down there, leaving our other halves behind.”

 “Most of us, though, we’ve made our peace with that, because they’ll always be with us. It’s harder knowing that the next generation will never meet their loftwings. So, that’s why I wanted you to meet yours. And that’s why I want you to meet her. Because we’re making the Hyrule that you get to live in.”

 “...And I want her to see that it’s all worth it.”

[cursewoodrecap]

Session 12: Going Green

We learn about the fourth Prisoner, and meet some new friends, and get dunked on AGAIN.

We wake up in Three Oaks Junction, which is still buzzing about the disaster of last night’s circus but has overall calmed down a whole lot. Shoshana finds the courier Valeria and Clem used the day before and sends out a letter to Ser Quentin at Hoska Castle to let him know what we found out and did in Mornheim.

Clem has breakfast near the statue of Three Oaks, and pretty soon everybody finds her and we all have Diner Breakfast. Gral finds a guy selling food and declares, “I’ll have your most slightly off-kilter animal’s eggs, please.” He receives eggs from a chicken with two heads. (He rolls and gets a nat 20. The egg has two yolks. Two yolks, two heads, the SYNERGY!) Flynn orders a breakfast burrito and also rolls well, which means they’ve actually invented breakfast burritos in Valdia. The most important meal of the day!

We hit the road with an up-to-date map and road trip snacks. Bad Herzfeld just looks like a market town surrounded by farms and a river. It’s not a big attraction or landmark, but we’re there for the farms anyway. It’s three days away by the fastest route.

As we travel, Valeria rolls for Aethis to successfully hunt and catch a ‘varmint’.

A couple days go by on the road. About a day’s travel outside Herzfeld, we have a chance meeting. Gral’s been scouting ahead for bandits, and he spots a bunch of garishly dressed riders with long-necked, ram-horned fuzzy mounts. What a pleasant surprise! A squadron of orcish outriders! Gral wants to say hi. They’re set up as a camp at the crossroads.

He sends a Message cantrip to Shoshana. “Orcish outriders up ahead, I’m gonna go talk to them.”

Shoshana: “Are they a threat, or potential buddies?” 

Gral: “They should be friendly. I’m gonna go see what’s up.”

He trots up the road, making no effort to keep hidden from the riders, who are mounted atop horned llamas. “Greetings!” he calls out as soon as he’s close enough. “What brings you this far into the Wood?”

There’s a captain leading the troop, and a bard traveling with them. Gral recognizes both of them: the bard is called Firesong, for her specialty in fire magic. The captain is Trollsfear, an old warhorse. Both are respected veterans of the Ascension War.

“Hey guys!” he says with a genuine grin, taking off his mask. “Firesong! Trollsfear!”

Firesong wears a similar mask to Gral’s, though hers has its own unique designs and a few scorch marks rather than the cracks and dents his has. “Joybringer!” she cries. “Trollsfear, it’s Joybringer! I haven’t seen you in so long - what brings you this far away from battle?”

Gral equivocates. “I had a lead on a local who was fluent in Orcish, who I hoped could serve as an interpreter. But since then we have been fixing various problems, with like-minded individuals. I see it as diplomatic work.”

She grins wryly. “We could use some diplomacy. We’re on a mission.”

“Oh? What mission?”

“Well, we heard some rumors about a group of trolls gathering in this area.”

“Quite a coincidence - that’s what we’re looking into as well!”

“Yeah, well, we hit a problem: standing orders from Shieldeater are to avoid antagonizing the locals if possible, right? So we reached Herzfeld and offered to take care of the troll problem, but the locals seem to take some pretty serious offense to that. When we asked, they said the trolls were welcome in the area?!”

“Soooooo... trolls are treated differently here,” Gral tells her. “They’re fairly peaceful and maintain bridges in exchange for coin. They don’t terrorize, like we’re used to. However – we believe there is a fungal threat to the troll population. You’ve seen fungus that controls minds, that makes people go berserk?”

“Yup, burned down a nest of it down near Barroch.”

“We’re trying to protect the trolls from something similar. Fungus controlled trolls would be good for nobody.”

Firesong goes a little pale at the thought. “I see. Unfortunately, we’ve somewhat, uh – you say you’ve been doing diplomatic work with the Valdians? You might have better luck than we did figuring out what’s going on in there.”

“Let me send a message back to the rest of my party.” He pops off another cantrip to Shoshana. “Coast clear. They’re looking into the same thing we are.”

Shoshana relays the message, and we all head up to the orcish camp. There’s about 10-12 outriders, plus the two leaders. They have these adorably weird ram-horned llama mounts, whose wool is dyed to match the garishly bright clothing of their riders.

(Alas, Gral is an emo orc in a glam rock world. We briefly wonder if Trollsfear has a David Bowie lightning bolt, but some questions shall remain forever unanswered.)

The orcs look at us with suspicion. Gral introduces us, like a proper diplomat.

Valeria hits them with the ol’ standard: “Hello, I am Kyr Valeria Argent, at your service.”

Firesong nods. “Greetings, I am Firesong. This is Captain Trollsfear.” She introduces the other outriders by their orcish names - it looks like only the two of them have been granted honor names.

Trollsfear doesn’t speak Valdian, but luckily Gral and Shoshana both speak Orcish. Better get some translator practice in, Shosha!

“We’ve somewhat burned bridges with the locals in the area. They didn’t react well when we told them we were here to take care of the troll issue,” Firesong explains.

“Did you go in saying you were gonna slay all the trolls?” Shoshana asks wryly.

“...A little bit?”

“Yeah, there’s yer problem.”

Gral nods. “Yeah, I explained it to them.”

“Is it gonna be a problem bringing Gral to Bad Herzfeld?” the sorceress asks.

“No, but they weren’t willing to help us find the trolls. Half of the valley is very heavily overgrown. We rode through the clear-cut areas, but the trolls are probably on the other side. Without a local guide we didn’t want to take our longnecks in there, so we’re kind of stuck right now,” Trollsfear tells us.

Firesong jumps in. “Also, there’s definitely something odd going on in this area. We thought it was just, yknow, humans trying to protect trolls, but....”

“Really? What are they doing that’s weird?”

“It’s not really a specific behavior? I can’t put my finger on it.”

Valeria, as usual, is on task. “You said you were investigating the trolls? Is it just the fact they’re gathering, or are there other concerns?”

“Uh, YEAH, our concern is the trolls gathering! Trolls, in our efforts, have been, y’know, less than cordial to us. Trollsfear here got his name hunting trolls back in the mountains.”

Valeria ponders. So far, she knows that Sea trolls = bad. Land trolls = okay? Mountain trolls being bad is new and useful information.

We explain all our current plot hooks to the outriders: 

-There was that farmer from Bad Herzfeld who set those wheat monsters on us

-The Fairgolds know about the troll moot called there, and we’re worried about trolls getting infected by the curse fungus

-The Fairgolds also found the dagger of Kyr Marius of the Order of the Rose, one of the paladins who was at the Summer Palace when the Crusade fell, in the hands of a fungus guy

-We’re searching for rare herbs for the ritual spell we wanna do in Mornheim.

Firesong nods. “That’s quite a list. I should warn you - in addition to the locals, we also encountered a group of very strange individuals. They wore black leather coats and beaked masks-”

“Oh, there’s Sturmhearst guys?”

“Yes! There’s a whole group of them operating out of an old overgrown farmhouse on the other side of river, where it’s overgrown.”

Gral fills them in on what Sturmhearst’s deal is.

“There was a big one, who had some sort of fire-spitting device.”

Clem’s eyes light up. “I want a fire-spitting device!”

Shoshana looks a little put out. “I am...also considered a fire-spitting device?”

“So is Firesong!” Trollsfear tells us. Firesong, in true bard-showing-off style, pulls out some drums, and sparks fly off skin of her drum as she plays a quick rhythm. The campfire starts pulsing with her beat, and its flames grow and form into the shape of an orcish warrior, who roars a battlecry with a crackle of flame.

“Ooh, neat party trick. Can you do that, Gral?”

Gral shakes his head. “My specialty is more in magic of the mind.”

“…Okay, that’s also cool, but less fun at parties.”

“You are all welcome to share our camp tonight. If you need assistance in the coming days, you can try to call on us. We can stay maybe a day or two – we were expecting to buy supplies from the locals, but we’re going to have to head out and forage, or find a town.”

Shoshana pipes up. “There’s a good trade stop called Three Oaks Junction about two days that way. Just a warning, they super do not like the circus, though.”

Trollsfear whispers an aside to Firesong in Orcish. “The...circus? Is that a Valdian euphemism?”

“I dunno, this place is WEIRD.”

Gral cuts in. “Our group will probably get better results in town. Cooperation with the trolls might not even be a bad idea. They’ve called this meeting for a reason, and if they’re not hostile, we can find our what the reason is and work with them.”

Trollsfear is decidedly not comfy with the idea of working with trolls. Gral tries to assure him. “We recently worked with one, he was quite nice! I saw him crack a few undead on the head protecting his town.” It doesn’t change Trollsfear’s mind, but it’s a nice effort.

The grizzled old captain sighs. “Hopefully you can get to the bottom of this. I came here for a hunt, not for…politics.”

“Do you have anything more than just a weird feeling about the townsfolk? Was there something, anything that you noticed that was off about the town?”

Firesong shifts uneasily. “Well, there was one thing. It’s gonna sound weird, I know. But the people in the town, everybody there, they didn’t seem scared. When we’ve ridden through, every town – even supply stops – have been scared of us, or of something. Fear is everywhere in these woods. These people, they watched us, but they weren’t afraid at all.”

“Well, that’s unsettling,” comments Clem. She’s right. Anti-orc racism is one thing, but a town in the Cursewood that’s not scared of anything???? Yeah, that’s definitely suspicious.

“Maybe the townsfolk are on the side of one of the Prisoners.” Shoshana sighs.

“Or one townsfolk is a cultist, and the others afraid of outing them, for fear of retribution?” wonders Gral.

The outriders agreeably give us the lay of the land in Bad Herzfeld: On the east side of the river valley, the land is mostly clear. It’s the bigger side, and it’s taken up by acres and acres of lush farmland. The west side, however, is very heavily overgrown. The orcs won’t take their mounts in there; the vegetation is too dense for them to navigate. In terms of population, the west side is mostly abandoned. There’s a small town on river, right in the middle. It’s not much - basically a mill, a granary, and a wooden temple called the Farmers’ Temple. It serves the farmers’ basic purposes, even as they mostly keep to their own spread-out farms.

It’s starting to get to late afternoon, and it’s a far hike to the tiny town, so the outriders generously offer to let us share their camp. Gral has smoothed over a lot of the initial awkwardness of the meetup, and it helps that Shoshana can help Gral translate, so everybody’s pretty chill.

The players insist on meeting some llamas. Shoshana pets a llama, and a lucky Animal Handling check means it neither bites nor spits. Everyone is very impressed. Shoshana spends the next ten minutes kneading her claws into its wool like a cat. SOFT.

Valeria pets one; it rotates its head like an owl and spits in her face. “Aw, he don’t mean anything by it, he’s just just grumpy,” his rider assures her. Valeria, glaring pointedly, pets Aethis, who doesn’t spit at her. Aethis hisses at the llama. The llama spits at Aethis. They are immediately sent to time-out on opposite sides of the camp, for everyone’s safety.

“Animals that aren’t reptiles are weird!” Valeria complains to Gral.

“Llamas are better for navigating mountains,” he counters.

“They’re stinky!”

“Yeah, llama deodorizer is a job in orc society. It’s not glamorous, but it’s a livin’.”

Shoshana, having recently gained third-level spell slots, asks Firesong to show her how she did that thing with the flames. Firesong is perfectly amenable to this and straps on her drum holster - it’s some kind of portable elaborate Neil Peart-style kit, which is a reference I had to google - and teaches her a couple of beginner fire tricks.

Apparently, evocation mages are uncommon among orc mages and bards; Firesong studied abroad in the goblin republics, where they have pyromancers like Mercedes. (Yes, she used to have a cool bolero jacket, too.)

“Truth be told, mostly I went to the goblins to learn how to cook.” Turns out Firesong’s cooking and grilling is the REAL reason for her name. Sing and sizzle!

Well, now that the topic of backstories has been breached, Shoshana awkwardly, quietly, asks Firesong and the other outriders if they’ve seen a specific person in their travels...probably not, she’s apparently super stealthy, but she’s an archer, I’m told she looks like she’s dripping with shadow-

“Wait, that does sound familiar,” comments Firesong. “I mean, I haven’t seen anything like that personally, but there were a couple of rumors – not far from the current border of the orc-controlled land, a few warriors saw some kind of archer ‘draped in shadows’…she was seen hunting. Slew some sort of big frogmonster. I heard she had some sort of crazy group with her - the folks who saw ‘em thought they might be werewolves. The frogbeast had been harassing our workers, and then the wolf gang chased it off. We sent a group to see what was up with her, and they found the monster’s body. When they tried to find her, she attacked, drove ‘em off, and fled.” 

All this happened a long ways southeast, on the edge of orc territory, at a place called Outpost Machdu. Shoshana’s player asks the DM if it would have been possible by conventional means to travel all that way in the relatively short time since the attack on Ovruch. The DM would like to remind you that travel times are fake and how dare you make him have coherent math. However, he’ll allow this: someone COULD have gotten there, but they’d have had to move fast. Travel in the Cursewood is extremely slow due to the many hazards, detours, and destroyed towns; to travel that fast you would have had to go a more direct route - not sticking to the roads and unafraid to go through the deep woods.

Well. That’s something to think about.

Later that evening, Gral draws Trollsfear and Firesong aside. “I have something for you both to think about. I believe we have found evidence that Bullbreaker is alive, though we don’t know how warped by the curse.”

There’s a SPIT TAKE.

The two outrider leaders immediately begin pressing Gral for every detail he can give them. He gives them a brief overview of the way the Key transports things to other worlds. “We found remnants of an attacked camp, and heard the cry of the creature - we call it the Lurker - that attacked our crusade. It’s an agent of this curse. We found the remains of Thrice-Burned and Gar Kala’shek, who has been named Shipsaver, along with a message from Bullbreaker. As far as we know, he still lives, but I think he’s gone elsewhere since then.”

They’re absolutely floored. “Joybringer. I don’t - this is-” The two orcs turn aside and converse quietly, hurriedly, under their breath. Firesong turns back to Gral. “I can send a message, but we’re going to have to leave here. We can stay maybe two days, no more. In good conscience, we can’t wait any longer - we have to get word of this to Shieldeater. If his son lives, he needs to know.”

For the rest of the night they interrogate Gral for everything he has about the Duke’s missing son, and he’s willing to tell them everything he knows. He tells them about the mutations we’ve seen due to the Key’s curse, too, preparing them for the worst ways Bullbreaker could have changed since he was last seen.

The news spreads around camp like wildfire. Every single outrider is visibly itching to get back to Barroch, the orc capital, and spread the news.

Firesong and Trollsfear come to a decision: “We’ll head out day after tomorrow. We’ll attempt to check in with you with Sending before we leave. In the meantime, we’ll cast a Sending to the Duke as well. We’ll still have to ride back to deliver all the details.” We give them Bullbreaker’s note from the crate in the Drowned City, to bring back proof to Shieldeater that he’s still alive. 

Flynn and Fiona are doing okay making friends with the orcs. They don’t speak the same language but Flynn still somehow manages to set up an arm wrestling betting ring with Fiona, so. They manage to break even! Apparently some things are universal, and a real buff lady sitting down with her hand in the arm-wrestling position while her brother puts money on the table is one of those things.

Eventually, morning comes, and it’s time to head out. Firesong promises that if the outriders get a message from us for help in the next couple of days, they’ll try to come lend a hand. We thank them and head our separate ways.

After a few hours, we approach Herzfeld. It’s not so much a single town as it is a wide region of loosely affiliated farmers. We come across a handy signpost. The older signs point towards the ‘town’ where the mill and temple are, but there’s a brand new one, pointing to a bridge across the river that leads to the overgrown side. It proudly announces: “Sturmhearst University College of Medicine, Bad Herzfeld Annex”.

The road past the sign, toward the annex, looks like it’s been recently and roughly cleared. The plants haven’t had much of a chance to reclaim it yet.

We can go towards either meeting the farmers, or meeting a new batch of mad scientists. We trust neither, but only one can give us a flamethrower. And Clem really wants a flamethrower.

Shoshana pouts. “Hey, I can basically be a flamethrower! Firesong taught me a pretty neat thing, last night.”

Gral chuckles to himself. He’s seen Firesong throw a Fireball.

...Clem still wants her own flamethrower.

We decide Hearst First, because players can have little a steampunk, as a treat.

We stick to the road, and it’s only a short walk before we reach what is very obviously labeled Sturmhearst University College of Medicine, Bad Herzfeld Annex: Pharmacological and Botanical Research Station. 

We see some more of those bigass guards in owl masks. One is holding some sort of contraption that looks like backpack with a long handheld tube attached. Flamethrower!!! Clem is told by the DM she might be able to use one of these, and is VERY interested in doing so.

The guards stare at us impassively. Shoshana stares back. They continue there staring contest until Valeria decides to be party face.

“Hi, might we be able to talk with one of professors?” she inquires politely. The guard steps to one side, revealing a bell. Valeria cautiously rings it.

Shortly, a halfling scholar comes up, tiny beak peeking over the fence. “Ah! Visitors! How can I help?”

“We’re investigating some cursed happenings, and we knew you’d be the people to talk to. Would you mind telling us what you’ve found out about the Curse in this area?”

“I mean, we’re mostly just studying the local flora? You’d have to talk to the Professor. I’ll see if she’s available. If you would step inside, please?”

We are taken to the porch of what was once a large farmhouse. The barn and several outbuildings have been retrofitted into various structures. They’re centered around a clearing where the plants have been slash-and-burned back, surrounded by an old stone fence that’s been repaired and heightened. There’s bird-masked scholars scuttling about. A group of students, accompanied by an owl guard, are clearly returning from an expedition into the woods, carrying plant samples into a barn. Maybe they have the plants we need for the water-purification ritual!

We are offered tea on porch by the halfling woman. We accept, but don’t drink it. Clem does the throw-it-over-shoulder and mime drinking routine, as is tradition.

“Professor Ulmus will be with you shortly. Oh, and if you see a metal chicken, try to catch it.”

Hey, isn’t that the professor from Clem’s journals? Also....a chicken?

Sure enough, as we wait, a clockwork chicken struts out in front of the porch, plucking at the grass. Valeria, ever helpful, decides she’s going to try to catch it. She rolls a dexterity of Bad. It turns to her, bawks gratingly, and bounces away on its little metal springy legs. Valeria dives for it and falls flat on her face. It nonchalantly goes back to eating blades of grass.

Gral minor illusions some oats. The Robot Chicken does not seem to care, but tries to go around them. Valeria, who will not admit defeat, tries again. She rolls better this time, and as it tries to hop away, she snatches it out of the air as a tall woman in a beaked mask steps out onto the porch.

“RITAAAAA!” she calls.

“Um, I caught your chicken!” Valeria offers helpfully.

The tall woman accepts the handful of cluckwork chicken (lol geddit?), pulls out a brass key, and inserts it in a metal slot. The chicken powers down and lies motionless.

“This is Rita!” the tall lady tells us fondly. “She’s for gathering samples, but has gone a bit haywire lately. Her enchantments make her flee from danger, so she’s difficult to find and catch. Please, step inside.”

We are ushered into the office of Professor Alma Ulmas. There’s a sturdy farmhouse table being used as her desk. Everywhere there’s beakers, notebooks, and plant samples. They’re unusual plants, some lying loose on the desk and a few more contained, including a glass tube with a detached vine in it that’s wriggling around restlessly. On one wall there’s a big beautiful map of an island with a crashed Aquilian city. The caption calls it “The Totaled Isle.” Valeria’s heard of it! It was so named because the thing that crashed there was totally wrecked.

Professor Ulmus sits and tries to spin her chair to face us. Sadly it is not a spinny chair. We politely pretend not to notice. “So, what brings you to see me?”

Valeria speaks up. “We’re investigating a situation in the area. We wanted to go here first, because we figured you might be able to tell us about how the Curse is manifesting here.”

“Well, whatever it is, it makes the plants grow very well. That’s what brought me here originally. I’m a professor of pharmacology, in the disciplines of botany and chemistry. We’ve been gathering and studying plant samples of unique, newly emergent species that seem plentiful here.”

“What are the dangers here?” 

“Well, hostile flora, in all the usual ways.”

“The usual ways?” Shoshana asks. “So, like...vines? Poison spores? Thorns?”

“Yes, all of those. Also, many of the local wildlife are suffering a type of fungal infection, which happens to be specialty of mine. I must admit, studying fungal infections here is far less interesting than I had hoped. We expected the locals would have plenty of willing patients, but they don’t seem to. Not a single one of them has come to us with complaints.”

“Nobody’s had any negative effects from fungal infections?”

“Only a handful, from the other side of the wood. We here are following all proper safety precautions, of course. I have not gone out and inspected their small podunk village. If you see anyone suffering any kind of infection by a Curseborne fungus, please send them to me immediately.”

“Well, see, we encountered someone from Bad Herzfeld, who seemed to have a fungus that affected his mind-”

Professor Ulmus isn’t listening to Valeria anymore, because Flynn’s started coughing. She nat20s her med check and immediately ignores all of us to get all up in his business. “Open up? Hmm, I see. Please cough into this swab.” She sticks the swab in a beaker of liquid and swirls it, looking at the color of the solution. “Hmm, yes. We’ll have to do a full examination.”

Fiona instinctually goes for her hammers. Flynn puts a hand out to stop her. “No, no, it’s fine! This is fortunate, she’s probably the best person to help me.”

It’s Valeria’s turn to pout. “Hey, I’m a Knight of the Rose!”

Professor Ulmus is still peering down Flynn’s throat. “Yes, clearly you’ve been alleviating his symptoms, but there has been no addressing of the root cause. No offense, but your techniques have a certain...brute efficiency.”

“….thank you.” Valeria chooses to believe that efficiency is a compliment.

Clem, meanwhile, is a bit intimidated by watching a highly competent doctor work.

“Isabel?” the Professor calls. The halfling woman comes back. “Please take Mr. Fairgold – and apparently his sister – to the clinic. He has a minor case of respiratory infection. I believe we will attempt procedure three today.”

We get up to follow the twins to the clinic, but she holds out an arm. “I’d prefer not to let too many people examine the procedure room. Any of you could be a spy sent by Professor Quercus.”

“Uh, okay, we have actually met that guy?” Shoshana admits. “But he didn’t exactly seem to be that interested in plants.”

“Ugh. He’s interested in anything that will get him funding. Aberrant Biology? That’s not even a real FIELD. I am a pharmacologist, and a botanist and a chemist, those are REAL sciences-”

She composes herself. “ANYWAY. Mr. Fairgold will need to be here for at least the rest of the day. In the meantime, is there anything else I can assist you with?”

We pull out the component list for the ritual. “Well, we were wondering if you could point us in the direction of a few particularly rare plants...”

“Isabel!” she calls. “No, wait, I just sent Isabel to prep the clinic. Douglas!”

Nobody shows up.

“Darn it, that’s not it...what was his name? William!” Another grad student in a mask pokes his head in. “Fetch the survey maps!” Within a couple of minutes, he’s brought us an armful of maps, and we take a look.

She shuffles through them and produces a map of the overgrown side of the valley. It’s covered in detailed notes on what plants have been found and where. She gets us a blank copy and points out specific plants to us. “Of your list, the moon lily will be the hardest to find, but we have sighted it around here...” She pulls out a soot-black quill and whispers an incantation to it. It sparks, and a thin stream of fire spurts from its tip, singeing tiny, precise details onto the map. She scribbles notes all over it, marking where our ingredients might be found, and blows out the quill when she’s done.

“There you go! This should guide your search. You should be able to find all of these in the valley, with incredibly high magical potency. I assume you’re seeking them for thaumaturgical purposes?”

“Yes, it’s for a ritual to purify a water source of disease.” She is mildly disappointed, but not particularly surprised.

Clem nervously steps forward and asks, ”I thought that your work about replacing limbs with synthetic troll blood was absolutely inspired. Um, would you sign my journal?” Professor Ulmus acquiesces and signs her article with the fire pen. Clem, with stars in her eyes, mumbles something about studying mundane medicine.

“Is that so? Oh, you must come to dinner tonight! Where did you study?”

“Well, I only got to study about a year of traditional medicine…”

“The [] institute?”

“Y-yes! How did you know?!”

“That’s the only Kevan headmaster I can think of who would have accepted a drow! No offense. Elves are racist. Judging by your bearing, you must have used your training as a medic during the war. I’d love to pick your brain!”

We all instinctually recoil.

She groans. “It’s a SAYING. Goodness, you say the wrong thing back home and everyone’s pulling out the BRAIN SAWS. I’m not even that kind of scientist!”

Gral takes the opportunity to break into the conversation. “’Scuse me. Gral Omokk’duu, pleasure to meet you. Have you ever done any investigation on orcish flora?”

She considers. “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Have you studied anything about soil purification?”

“We do have a soil lab here. I’m aware of what happened to your homeland, and while you have my deepest sympathies, I’m afraid that-”

“No, I’m more trying to recreate the soil of a specific place.”

“Oh! Well, that’s something I could potentially work on! Not here, though, and I’ll be here for another month or two. I can write a letter of introduction – if you can get a sample or a seedling of the plant you’re trying to grow-”

“We do have some seeds in Barroch.”

“Excellent. If you can send the seeds to Sturmhearst, and a soil sample of what you’re trying to recreate, we can certainly do something, if your duke is willing to make a contribution to the college…”

Gral turns to look at the rest of us. “Huh. Didn’t think it would be that easy.”

(We’re all like, please, professors would do anything for funding.)

And then the DM tells us to google Professor Ulmus’ name. ...DUDE. AGAIN?!

Ulmus is a specific tree genus; this is, of course, Professor Elm. Please direct your notice to the Cinder Quill, the Chicken Rita, and the Totaled Isle.

AAAAAUUUUUGH.

We swear to be prepared next time we meet a professor. But the DM warns us that he’ll no longer be going in order of the games...

So we’ve met Professor Ulmus and we have a map! Let’s look at the map and figure out our plan. 

On the map, there is something called Trollsburg, well north of the annex. A ways in from the river, on the tangly side. It’s probably safe to assume that’s where the trolls are gathering. We decide we want to investigate the town before we get into it with the Big Fellas.

Hmm. How many of our rare herbs could we get today, if we went out foraging? The map shows general areas of where to find things, not specific. Back home, Shoshana could canvass an area this size in a single day. Here, super overgrown with monsters? Lol, nahhhh.

The consensus is: if we have to go find plants, let’s do it before we piss off the Curse.

There’s four main plants we’re looking for, that we can’t get anywhere else: the Moon Lily, the Red-Flowered Mandrake Root, the Purple Cave Creeper (aka Vasilius’ Shawl) and the Norbert’s Wort.

The Moon Lily looks like the most complicated to get. They have the least presence on the map, and it’s the furthest out, in a pond. Valeria and Shoshana, heading up this spell operation, want to get that one first. Gral and Clem are fine with that. Time to draw some cards for the journey! 

We draw The Beast, and the DM hurriedly proceeds to improv a fight plan.

A good survival roll means we aren’t immediately murdered by a shrubbery. As we push in, we are able to detect the tracks of some big, heavy, clawed creature making its way through the woods. WELP. Better go slow and quiet. It takes us a long while to get close to the pond at that rate, well into the afternoon, but we’re avoiding any paths our Survival check gives us bad vibes about.

This place could not be more different from Mornheim. Having just come from a place where everything was withered and greying, the riot of lush and vibrant plant life is jarring. But there’s something distinctly unsettling about this place nonetheless. 

As we get close to the wetlandy part, where our target is, we again find more tracks of some big Thing. They’re a bit like bear tracks, but far bigger than a regular bear. Better get stealthy to take a look around.

Valeria casts Aid on Shoshana, Gral, and Clem, in case we run into the big nasty. Clem, listening intently, hears a sound - the snoring of something huge. Clearly, we’re close. Valeria uses Divine Sense to see if she can get it on radar, but whatever it is doesn’t ping. 

Gral, our de facto rogue, stealths around the side of the pond to check it out. He notices some weird fungal growths spread out throughout the area, lumpy and misshapen. As he approaches, he can also hear the heavy breathing noise of snoring. Peering around a bend, he finally spots a massive shape sitting in one of the ponds, a green blob in a world of green. At first it just looks like a hill of foliage, but it’s moving ever so slightly, rising and falling with the rhythm of breath. It’s covered in mosses and lichens.

“Hmmm,” Gral observes. “Snorlax.”

He’d be happy to leave it well alone, but there’s one other thing in the same pond. In the very center, he can see one thing that none of us have seen all day: In that pond is emerging a shining white lily flower.

Gral quietly messages Valeria: “I found the giant thing and the lily thing and they’re very close to each other. Also, you don’t want to step on fungus.” He sneaks back to the party to guide us there.

We appraise the puzzle. In order to harvest the lily you’d need to get in the water; it’s pretty far in and we need the whole thing – the petals, stamen, flower bits, stem, everything. Our herbalist-sorceress knows you can’t just yank it out, you need to snip it carefully to avoid damaging it. Shoshana’s Mage Hand doesn’t have the necessary precision.

Someone’s Gonna Have To Go In The Water.

Gral casts Silence and Shoshana keeps up a Minor Illusion of the lily, hoping to create the impression that it’s still there after we take it. Valeria grabs the snippers out of Shoshana’s herbalism kit and is goes into the pond on Aethis, who is a gator and can swim. The lorge lizards are not stealthy; Valeria rolls an 11 on stealth as she approaches. As she reaches forward, ready to snip, a wave flows through the pond, the water moving. An eye opens, burning and yellow, in the mossy mass.

Valeria is gonna keep tryin’ to snip the lily! 13 dex check? She’s gotten in there, clipping the stem, when the huge mound of creature unfolds itself to its full enormous height. It’s a bear, but its back is covered in a thick mass of moss. It’s huge, too, bigger in weird, distorted ways. Like it’s just had more mass slapped on top, lumpy like unformed clay. It rises up out of the water and opens its massive jaws in a bellowing roar, and we can see its long teeth, covered in a layer of greenish-brown fungus. 

“Oh, Dynamax Snorlax.”

Vines emerge from its back, lashing at us threateningly.

“Eh, it’s more of a Venusaur. But a bear.”

We roll initiative!

Valeria has secured the flower! But there’s a BEAR in melee range. She takes time to safely stow the lily in the Handy Haversack, meaning she cannot draw her weapon this turn. So she breathes on it. It is now cold, and smacks Valeria about it. Luckily she’s well armored, but it still crits. 21 damage as it grapples her in its thorns! Sweet Rack, we need a Charizard. It misses its bite attack though, its filthy teeth clanging against her armor.

Thigh-deep water is difficult terrain, so Clem can only get there if she dashes. She runs as close as she can, about 15 feet away from it, and hurls a previously unmentioned handaxe! Well, now the bear has a handaxe. Shoshana shoots it with acid from the safety of the bank, and Gral uses Phantasmal Forces to make it think blades are popping out of the ground to stab it. Valeria, still grappled, swings her sword and SMITES. Her vine fu is stronger than its vine fu! (Hers have roses in them!) She can’t get away from it, though, the DM requiring her movement as part of it dropping the grapple. 

The fungal bear growls at us and charges, trying to knock over Valeria, Clem, and Gral in a single turn. It misses Valeria with its teeth, but Clem and Gral are each struck by a tangling vine. Gral is grappled, Clem is not. As it stands in the middle of the pond, roaring ferociously, Clem buries her sword in its side and Shoshana hits it with another stream of acid, burning away some of the thick mossy growth in its fur. We can see underneath, and the fun has almost entirely been replaced by moss, fungus crumbling out of its wounds instead of blood. 

Gral declares he’s going to do the classic Shimmy and Shiv, playing a minor chord to wooble himself behind the bear and then coming in with his sickle. Valeria slashes at it, and her sword comes out covered in moss and fungus. It sinks its teeth into Gral, and he luckily makes his con save, avoiding being infected by the spores trying to invade his bloodstream. Up close, he can see the beast’s mouth and throat is just overflowing with the fungus. 

“This is not how Snorlax is supposed to Gigantamax!”

“I told you, it’s a Venusaur!”

Clem trips it and it collapses into the water with a rippling splash. Shoshana sprays it with acid one more time, striking it face on. It roars, horrible and distorted, spores spewing out of it mouth before it flops forward, its final collapse sending out another soaking wave of mossy water. Clem dives underwater to avoid breathing in the spores, and then quiet falls as the thing lies still.

We all take a moment to be soaking wet, in a pond.

Valeria wants to get a sample of the creature’s fungal growths for Professor Ulmus. Clem and Shoshana, who have Medicine, team up and use the scalpel of Professor Wendell. We harvest some excellent samples! Sturmhearst sent us, so obviously we have a sample collection kit. The fungus is crumbly and sort of yellowish.

We short rest, for 3 Taint. Clem does not rest, and instead does push-ups, avoiding the corruption.

1 of 4 rarest ingredients got.

As we close session, leaving the problem of getting out of the woods to our future selves, our DM realizes that on the eve of this big football game he didn’t remember to make us fight a Superb Owl.