Pressed between confusion and dismay at their friend's suicidal surrender into the hands of the cruel, lumber consortium goods, and the immediate need to save lives of suffering Falcon's Hollow Andorans. The party opts to hurry on to the lumber consotium camp to find Milon Rhoddam. Following along the southern edge of the forest they trek for a few miles before coming upon the camp. The Lumber Consortium Camp cuts an ugly scar of stumps into a dense stand of proud darkwood trees. Five sturdy-looking log buildings— seemingly a bunkhouse, meal hall, office, barn, and smithy—stand with numerous wide carts and sleds amid the sawdust-covered clearing.
Owned and operated by the local Lumber Consortium, the camp appears as callous and unrelenting as the men who work it. Since our heroes are visitors without direct business with the camp foreman, the first band of surly loggers they encounter try to send them packing. But Sif growls out some vicous threats and the two think better of tangling with this clearly trained warrior in full armor and they are directed to the camp foreman, Jarlben Trookshavits. Entering his filthy office, thickly decorated with taxidermies of fierce forest animals, they are greeted by a phenomenally surly and rancorous old bastard, who unleashes a stream of rude language, curses and epithets at them before they can even inquire after woodsman Milon Rhoddam, further diplomacy and intimidation ensured and the old coot grudgingly boots them toward the Mess Hall and the old woodsman they seek
Jarlben Trookshavits
Milon Rhoddam is a blunt, quiet man, and one of the most experienced wanderers and woodsmen in the region. Hie discovers from Belton Harald that his nephew has taken ill with blackscour taint and, if when they explain they’re trying to find reagents to brew a cure, he gladly sketches them a rough map of the forest, marking the location of where he believes Ulizmila’s hut, the oldest tree in the forest, and the dwarven ruins stand. Offeing his help if they can save his nephew.
Milon Rhoddam
The group set our from the camp into the Darkmoon Wood. Travelling without incident through the woods, they come to the Darkmoon River that flows southwest from Droskmere Lake in the deep woods.It is then that Gaia discovers Sif's act of kindness and sneaky trick when he pulls from her pouch the magical Feather Token of the Swan from Goose 'n' Gander back in Falcon's Hollow. Letting it fall into the river a marvelous and wonderful longboat appears of the finest alabaster white with a gorgeous swan-head prow and a tiller-set shaped like a feathered swan-tail. The magical craft plies the river upstream at a good clip and our heroes see many interesting things pass by on the far shores safely out of bow-range, such as fierce and primitive arboreal orcs, savage headhunter cannibals with crude stone weapons who snarl, and howl at them, croaking barking threats, taunts and warnings in their barbaric tongue. They see Dunlied (Brush Colts) on the shore come down to drink. A particularly stout breed of small-antlered deer, often trained by foresters as mounts. And local to Andoran and the northern nations. Travelling north and east they come to a spot to make camp. Gaia sends out her familiar raven, Kenai, to scout the area for dangers and enemies while Belton and Sif make camp and rustle up some food with trapping and hunting. After some time a campsite is up on a small hillock and Sif has a brace of coneys gutted, spitted, rubbed down with salt and stuffed with herbs gently roasting over a cheery blaze. Kenai espies a curious dell in which a queer blue-green glow lights what should be a darkened depression in the rocky ground, sending an empathing flash to his master Gaia, who catches a psychic glimpse of the odd area and tells her companions. They head off to investigate and find a trove of Glowmold. Sif, recognizes this valuable dungeoneering resource immediately and inspects the undersides of several large rocks deep in the bowl that are covered in rare, glowing mold. She instructs the group in how to harvest enough of the mold without destroying it to serve as a light source. Revealing that once removed from the rock, the mold continues to glow with the brightness of a torch for 3 days. They head back to camp and finish off the rabbits and dream of unsettling wooden things pleading in darkness where madness claws at the fringes of consciousness on all sides. Awakening in the dawn light they meditate and memorize their spells for the day. Praying to their deities and breaking camp for the long march ahead.
After a time the come to where Belton believes they should disembark and continue across the land on foot to The Forest Elder. After a few miles hike the dense trees and thick brush of the forest give way, parting seemingly in respect for the titanic darkwood tree that dominates this clearing. Several times taller than a temple minaret, in one direction the obviously ancient tree reaches into the sky with branches like a giant’s arms, while in the other it plumbs the earth with roots thicker than a man’s waist. Its limbs broad and strong, its bark thick and so richly colored as to almost be black, and its leaves the size of bucklers, the giant thing is less a tree and more a cathedral of boughs and branches. This elder darkwood tree is the most ancient of its kind in Darkmoon Vale. Said to have been carried as a sapling from the Hissing Jungle and planted here in the distant past by Deirzir, the Eagle of The First Way, himself, the druids that once guarded the forest claimed this darkwood to be the root from which all Darkmoon grew. The clearing is roughly ovular, 180 feet from north to south and 110 feet from west to east. The elder darkwood has a trunk 30 feet in diameter, with low, easy to climb branches that extend 35 feet from the trunk in every direction. Belton flies up to scale the tree’s nearly 300-foot height, gaining a commanding view of the entire forest. While Sif unleashes her new-won Ranger lore, a magic spell that allows her to find plants or animals that she seeks through a blind density of trees, through hills and in the dark of caves, under the rushing rivers waters and hidden in camouflaged bowers. Her eldritch power swells and flows forth like a wave, upward into the great Darkwood tree revealing in her mind all of the locations of the desperately needed Elderwood moss. She speaks of what she has learned to her winged companions that they may fly about the trunk and retrieve the moss. Belton argues for cornering the market of the moss , now that they have poisoned Thudlrin Kreed's well and necessitated he and his men gather this cure for the Blackscour Taint. Gaia and Sif are uncomfortable with htis idea, citing unseem ramifications. Sif goes off to hunt up some food for the camp they are pitching at the base of the tree while Gaia and Belton alight into the air and begin the work of collecting the moss.
Gaia smells something odd on the wind once she is 200 feet up in the tree and looking up she sees dangling human corpses of woodsmen, wedged cruelly into the crooks of branches and hanging in the wind, blood draining and slowly putrefying. This gives her immediate pause and sets her on high alert, as she calls out to warn Belton, they here and ominous sliding or slithering coming down the opposite side of the tree and a strange dragon-like creature rounds the immense trunk, with enormous head breathing a horrid green mist that speak of acid or poison.
The Tatzlewyrm
It's wicked and insidious voice hisses, sibilant and terrible as it taunts and questions them. Asking what these little birds are about so high up in this great tree and incidentally, home to it's scaly majesty, the Green-Blight King of Scales, the Coiled Prince of Venom, the Long-Fanged Sovereign of Death? Bidding the little birds to sing as birds ought to. And Gaia, whose mellifluous and celestially musical voice as a Musetouched Aasimar, coolly sweeps into song. Of all the aasimars, musetouched tend to be among the most beautiful by most humans’ standards. They possess features with an unearthly charm, such as long, thick hair of a seemingly impossible hue and limpid, jewel-toned eyes. Musetouched are commonly possessed of innate musical talent and a love for melodies, and many train as bards while they wander. Gaia, influenced by her half-elven heritage chose the path of the Magus, but her voice is blessed and rings with crystal tones of unearthly beauty and celestial splendor. Her song amuses and captivates the magical beast, it sways and slithers in time to her song.
Skinamarinka dinky dink
Skinamarinka doo,
I love you
Skinamarinky dinky dink
Skinamarink a doo,
I love you
I love you in the morning
and in the afternoon,
I love you in the evening
and underneath the moon!
So, Skinamarinka dinky dink
Skinamarink a doo,
I love you and you and you
and you and you and you and
YOU!
As her song winds to a close Belton and Gaia are shoulder to shoulder on the broad treelimb, sensing an opportunity to work magic to their advantage, Gaia hurries into the enchantment that will enlarge Belton to that he can tangle with the 15-foot long lizard on a more equal footing, but the wily old wyrm is no fool, he leaps forward causing Belton to have to fly off the limb out into the branches to dodge him. Gaia, slings her potent spell across the void and Belton,s bones and sinews creak with their sudden and magical growth. She draws forth her saber and strikes against the scaly terror but his steel hard skin is proof against her blows. Belton, not towering 12 foot tall and weighing hundreds of pounds, swoops in with the Rosewood Sword of Thorns and drives the jagged, splintery blade deep into the creature's breast, opening a jagged, torn-looking wound suppurating blood and poison. Gaia rallies quickly to the fight but not before the great serpent, roaring in hurt and indignation, snaps down brutally upon her slender waist and chest with it's great, gaping maw, his terrible 6-inch fangs sinking 4 inches deep into her vitals, slipping between the overlaps of her leather armor, creating deep, bloody wounds in her stomach and chest and in her back and ribs, loosing poison directly into her lungs and intestines. Gasping in horror at the terrible wounds dealt her, Gaia lashes out in desperate fury, sinking her saber deep into the ragged wound left by Balton and grinding her sword back and forth inside the creatures body. Sif Amarth, with the instinct and skill ofa mountain lion, has nearly flew up the side of the great tree, leaping and springing up the 200 feet of branches and trunk to emerge behind the fiendish viper. Drawing the The Singing Sword of Arne Saknussemm she charges down the great tree limb like a snarling panther, the blade humming and singing with metallic life as it croons and shrieks out it's Skaldic battle-song as it swings through the air. The mighty Nordic maiden sweeps the broadsword in a deft and deadly arc, cleaving in an instant, the deadly creature's head from it's body. For Magical Beasts are her favored enemy and her arm and eye are ever-keen to wreak their destruction. The other look on in wonder at what she has wrought in this instant. Gazing in wonder as the great body and deadly head tumble separately down to the welcoming earth, crashing heavily through dozens of branches on the way to the ground.
Skinamarinka dinky dink
Skinamarinka doo,
I love you
Skinamarinky dinky dink
Skinamarink a doo,
I love you
I love you in the morning
and in the afternoon,
I love you in the evening
and underneath the moon!
So, Skinamarinka dinky dink
Skinamarink a doo,
I love you and you and you
and you and you and you and
YOU!
As her song winds to a close Belton and Gaia are shoulder to shoulder on the broad treelimb, sensing an opportunity to work magic to their advantage, Gaia hurries into the enchantment that will enlarge Belton to that he can tangle with the 15-foot long lizard on a more equal footing, but the wily old wyrm is no fool, he leaps forward causing Belton to have to fly off the limb out into the branches to dodge him. Gaia, slings her potent spell across the void and Belton,s bones and sinews creak with their sudden and magical growth. She draws forth her saber and strikes against the scaly terror but his steel hard skin is proof against her blows. Belton, not towering 12 foot tall and weighing hundreds of pounds, swoops in with the Rosewood Sword of Thorns and drives the jagged, splintery blade deep into the creature's breast, opening a jagged, torn-looking wound suppurating blood and poison. Gaia rallies quickly to the fight but not before the great serpent, roaring in hurt and indignation, snaps down brutally upon her slender waist and chest with it's great, gaping maw, his terrible 6-inch fangs sinking 4 inches deep into her vitals, slipping between the overlaps of her leather armor, creating deep, bloody wounds in her stomach and chest and in her back and ribs, loosing poison directly into her lungs and intestines. Gasping in horror at the terrible wounds dealt her, Gaia lashes out in desperate fury, sinking her saber deep into the ragged wound left by Balton and grinding her sword back and forth inside the creatures body. Sif Amarth, with the instinct and skill ofa mountain lion, has nearly flew up the side of the great tree, leaping and springing up the 200 feet of branches and trunk to emerge behind the fiendish viper. Drawing the The Singing Sword of Arne Saknussemm she charges down the great tree limb like a snarling panther, the blade humming and singing with metallic life as it croons and shrieks out it's Skaldic battle-song as it swings through the air. The mighty Nordic maiden sweeps the broadsword in a deft and deadly arc, cleaving in an instant, the deadly creature's head from it's body. For Magical Beasts are her favored enemy and her arm and eye are ever-keen to wreak their destruction. The other look on in wonder at what she has wrought in this instant. Gazing in wonder as the great body and deadly head tumble separately down to the welcoming earth, crashing heavily through dozens of branches on the way to the ground.