Campaign Log: Confessions of a Forked Tongue

[coronatiger]

None of the spirits appeared to be hostile, though, so I declared my intention to go over to the tree stump and knock on the door. Everyone followed. Up close, I could see that the door had once been covered with red and green paint, but time had worn it down.

I knocked, and a heartbeat later, the door opened. The tree stump was hollowed out into one big room. In the center stood a table with simple stools tucked in under it. The walls were covered top to bottom with a collection of plants, except where a tapestry hung. In front of the tapestry stood a wooden statue depicting a lush, middle-aged woman in lifelike detail. “Be greeted,” I said to the statue. It responded by opening its eyes. One of the myriad spirits in the room pulled out a stool from the table, and I sat down. “Be greeted, you talk to Samora,” the statue said.

I explained that we came seeking healing for our dwarven friend and that we brought a gift if Samora could find a way to restore him. I spoke Arani, of course, but when Wolfram opened his mouth, Samora revealed that she could speak Common, and we continued so everyone could understand.

Samora was surprised that we had come all the way from Arland in our search, but she recovered quickly. She instructed me to take certain plants from the walls and place them on Groman’s throat and wrists. When I had done so, she began to whisper in a strange language, and the spirits in the room began to move. Some drifted up to the ceiling, while others entered the plants on Groman. I thought Samora’s whisper had some kind of rhythm to it; was she quoting a poem?

Suddenly, Samora gasped and fell silent, and the spirits fled from Groman. I knelt by his side and touched his forehead. Groman was cold sweating. I told my friends it appeared Samora couldn’t cure Groman. Then I began to pray.

Vaguely, I heard the growl of an animal in the distance. Xipil detected that it was actually a person signaling. I ignored it all and focused on my prayer; I was struggling to establish a connection. I did not ignore when the door was ripped open.

A dark-skinned warrior studied us. “Or var,” he said in a deep voice. I had no idea what that meant. The warrior stomped the butt of his spear against the floor. Wolfram asked if he spoke Common, but the warrior turned and walked away, leaving the door open. While I didn’t speak the man’s tongue, I could read his body language, and it was obvious he wanted us to follow. Wolfram peeked outside and closed the door. Xipil protested that we were meant to go after, but Wolfram distracted him by asking if he thought they were shapeshifters; there were quite a few of them around the clearing.

I returned to my prayer. The men outside began to beat drums and sing, and Xipil went to watch. Grogg and Hylda started a counter-song inside, and Grogg beat the rhythm with his maul on the floor. I allowed myself a moment of distraction. Grogg’s voice was deep and steady, but Hylda’s was shrill and discordant. Why had I ever thought she could sing? It had to be because of Grogg’s insistence. I sighed and tried my best to shut out the sounds.

I thought I wouldn’t get a response from You. Was the clearing with its circle of bauta stones magically blocking my attempt at reaching out? Samora’s magic might be strong, but You are stronger. “She comes!” Your voice in my head was ecstasy, and I was loath to sever the connection, but I found myself standing up and opening my eyes. Yana wore a slight frown. “Why so determined?” she signed. “Our host is here,” I signed back. Yana’s eyes widened with fear, so I added. “Ashtar did not instruct me to kill her.”

The door opened. A gorgeous woman, almost as beautiful as Yana, stood outside. She was clad in a dress woven of green and purple leaves. This could be none other than Samora herself; her regal air was one that expected obedience, but she smiled pleasantly at us all. Wolfram stepped aside so she could enter.

I crossed my arms over my chest and bowed politely. Samora acknowledged the gesture with another smile, but she said nothing and went to examine Groman. She did much like I would have done, feeling his forehead for a fever and his wrists to measure his heart rate. Xipil entered the room, looking quite timid. Had he gone up against Samora outside and gotten a lesson?

Samora asked where we had found Groman, but I thought it more useful to explain where he’d gotten his “condition.” I told Samora about the King’s Crypt, and she asked the location of the spirit cloud that had been released from there. To the best of our knowledge, the desert people had taken it to the north-west.

Samora checked Groman’s vitals again, obviously concerned. She was far from certain that she could heal him, and if she could, it would take months. Wolfram explained that we needed Groman’s expertise to counteract the coming cataclysm, but he surprised me by asking for permission before he revealed more. I said it was fine. Wolfram said we needed Groman to translate ancient languages in the ruined city where we meant to find and aid Queen Makeda. We didn’t have months for Groman to recover.

Xipil was perhaps the one who had spent the most time in Pak and Groman’s company, and he had a solution. Pak was almost as skilled as Groman, and we should be able to convince him to stand in, now that we could leave Groman’s recovery in the most capable hands.

I said I wanted to hear Your opinion before I committed us to anything. Samora said my faith had to be strong indeed if You could give me answers in this place. I didn’t bother with a reply. I just sank to my knees and fished Hope out of her pouch again. I wasn’t certain Samora was entirely comfortable. She said she would go outside and let us talk, but Wolfram and Xipil kept her busy with questions while I reached out to You.

With my palms against the floor, I remained still, but I could feel Hope slithering about. Something about this place confused her. I noticed it before, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. It was like Hope hunted for the best spot to hear You, but she had trouble finding it. When she stopped for a moment, she quickly decided to move on. Suddenly, I felt her perking up, and then Your voice blessed my inner ear. “On the path that lies ahead, only your eyes can see!”

My eyes blinked open. I scooped up Hope and stood. “We will do fine without Groman,” I said, “but since we’re going back to Anabel anyway, we might as well gather up Pak and Keri and take them with us.” I expected them to be there by now, hopefully safely ensconced in the Nightflower.

Samora said we had to leave the stump for a while. She instructed us to find a place to stay in the jungle, and to return after full dark. We could leave Groman where he was. I suggested we looked for a place where we might set up our tents, and the others agreed. There was some consternation that the path we had followed earlier was now gone, but we didn’t have to go very far before we found a decent campsite. We had to set up the large tent over and around some bushes, but the smaller fit snugly between two trees.