Malomedies
Luminari Malomedies
Age
24
Children
Gender
Male
Eyes
Green
Hair
Leaves
Skin Tone/Pigmentation
Greyish Orange
The Town of the Grove
After the battle with the tree, I carved out a nook underneath the now body.
Francis took the time to scout ahead with his familiar making two noteworthy discoveries
[\t] First that there was a large fungal tree, swarmed by what were described to me to be a sort of moth-human hybrid.
[\t] The second was that there was a long abandoned town down here,
We decided first to head off for the town, as that seemed where the statues would be most likely to rest, additionally behind the town was an abandoned monastery, although Francis couldn't tell us anything else.
Once we entered the town immediately an ancient elven symbol caught our eye. It seemed as though the Foamers had seen it before on some book, although none of us really had a place for it in our minds, nor any idea what it meant.
First we went to the remains of a library, although it had been long overtaken by the fungus that surrounded us, nothing could really be gathered. Another one of those parasites was found to be following us, although we tried to take it alive, Chago and Steve opted to kill it in order to prevent its escape.
Francis and I took to the tavern, reading what was left of recipe books and supply orders there was a distinct lack of whatever fungus now enveloped the entire cavern.
At the Town Hall was where we all reconveined. Although we had not exchanged any meaningful information before we were attacked.
Breifly, there were 8 adversaries. Twisted fiends, equal part corpse and fungus. Unsettled by their appearance and numbers I decided to pull no punches. Ensnaring all of them in a slowing spell I once again witnessed the holy extermination brought by Steve. He must have put extra care into the crafting of this bomb because he once again very calmly opened a small jar, added something, gave it a shake and tossed. The fiends were helpless. 3 of them fell instantly, consumed by the flame. Ku'ruq also had a new trick up his sleeve, an axe, seemingly alive with vapid blue fire. It cleaved through two of the feinds as if they weren't even there.
However, the fiends began to emanate an eerie whistle that tried to frighten us to our core. All but Steve managed to resist their unholy listing as he shrieked in terror. The mushrooms reacted to the sound, singing their song and petrifying the dwarf. As a second wave of the harsh whistling came, it was Ku'ruq that now fell victim. However he remained mobile. Quickly after the noise subsided the fiends were dealt with.
Interestingly, I'll have you note, that the mushrooms on their bodies stopped glowing after they died, perhaps there is a connection between the mushrooms. Secondly, the noise of the whistling didn't disturb the mushrooms, only the screams of panic. Furthermore, the fiends are the only evidence that we have so far of the fungus spreading or attacking anything livning.
The Singing Grove
We quickly discovered why they call it the singing grove. Looking back the decision to wear something to ward off the charms couldn't have been better. Immidately upon entering the grove we heard it. Not really a singing, but certainly a melody, it grasped at our minds trying to drive us mad to no avail.
Quickly we understood the source of the 'singing' it was not something nor someone that was singing to us. Rather the mushrooms that littered the cave reacted to the sounds we made, any time that it got too loud, they began to sing.
We trekked across an open field of sorts, far in the distance a massive tree confronted us. Taking refuge underneath it appeared to be other travelers. Francics and Chago insisted on scouting ahead, although I have always found it much easier to just go figure out peoples intentions; it also never hurts to not have the suspicion of being spies on your side too. No matter. They quickly discovered that the travelers were no longer, reduced to mere corpses shoved underneath the roots of this tree.
Chago spotted a book, and his curiosity got the better of him. Remember we were only here to figure out if these mythical truth telling statues were indeed real, and if so: where to find them. This book would have post dated any statue by hundreds if not thousands of years. Distraction seems to be the biggest weakness of this group. No matter, as this distraction proved to be my first real introduction to the members of the Foamers.
As the cat tried to grab at this book the tree grabbed back. We all watched in astoundment as the tree came to life. Deftly breaking free the cat made a run for the group, once again narrowly avoiding the clutches of the tree. Attempting to charm the horror, so that we could all get away safely, proved ineffective, as I felt the strings of my charm wrap around its mind they came loose.
Ku'ruq the turtle, charged into the frey. Issuing a provocative roar, shockinlgy not disturbing the mushrooms. Certainly it did provoke the tree's ire. A smokey purple haze ebbed from Francis, completely enveloping the tree. I ascertain that he is a warlock, and quite a potent one at that.
The dwarf was another case all together. For Steve neither ran away from the tree, nor did he run towards it . He calmly removed a small container, added a component, and gave it a shake before hurling it at the tree. What followed was an entrance into combat that certainly surprised me. For a scholar of such small stature, a pyroclastic detonation of that magnitude did not seem in his nature. Although as I would come to learn Steve remains perhaps the most influential member of the Foamers.
The tree was quick to retaliate, with surprising dexterity, he lifted one of the corpses that sat beneath its roots, and returned volley at Steve. Something must have been off that day, as the rotten jutting ribs tore through my small friend sending him flying backwards unconscious. Either from the impact or the concussive knock-back, Steve lost a finger.
Chago, now far enough away as to not be directly under one of the tree's branches, finally had his own chance to introduce himself. The ghost that I saw at the bath house once again emerged. I know not how, but the two seem to work in some sort of symbiosis. her hand reached out and withered a patch of bark to rot in the blink of an eye. The phantasm did wonderfully, however Chago is formidable in his own right. He drew back a bow loaded with what appeared to be a crossbow's bolt. Glowing with some form of magical rune, the bolt embedded itself deep within the tree, the erupted into a cacophony of fire. Seemingly the most effective attack of the bunch, although I am dubious of the consistency, he seemed to have shocked himself at the effectiveness. Perhaps it is of Steve's making.
I turned my attention to the greviously injured dwarf. He wasnt too far gone, and I managed to get him breathing again with some degree of frequency. The elf and the turtle continued to throw what they had at him, but ultimately it was the Warlocks familiar "Wittle-bones" I believe who struck the final blow. A strange imp of seemingly good tempermant enveloped the heart of the tree in a whirlwind of fangs and venom, splintering the heartwood in two.
As we attempted to revive Steve, I made a most interesting observation: his vials are not labeled. Seemingly a poor choice for a scientist, especially one that makes explosives.
Journey to the Singing Grove
Before us was the entrance to the singing grove. I had fashioned our group a set of earplugs made of candle wax and lead, hopefully this would stop whatever earned the grove its name from making us another group of victims. We ventured into the tunnels uneventfully until it opened up into a humid cavern.
This first cavern seemed to be recently inhabited, there were tools and buckets, all overturned and abandoned. For how long it was hard for me to say. Accompanying the room was an eerie dripping sound, likely from a stalactite, although the dripping never ceased.
However on we pressed, once again into the tunnels.
The next cavern we came too was completely different. To start, the smell was nothing like I had ever smelled before, worse than anything in the swamps. Against the walls were a litany of desecrated corpses. All seemingly stripped of their entrails. My companions investigated further, but little by information was gained. The cat on the other hand did acquire some cool new scars.
There seemed to so far be nothing that presented any danger, at least not to any adventures worth their salt, however the evidence of danger was still profoundly unsettling.
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