Session 81

Rafernard's Forest

Chapter 1: Madness

The battle unfolded in a storm of chaos and bloodshed. Safi, the druid, relinquished his wildshape form, dropping the party's items at his feet before casting an empowered bless spell upon himself, Shiv, Shank, and Zahraan. As the gargantuan Athasian Roc and its rider descended upon them, death followed. The roc’s razor-sharp beak tore through a pilgrim, while the rider’s flaming sword slashed Anvar, leaving a searing wound. The roc's talons latched onto Safi, tearing into him savagely, as another pilgrim fell to the rider's blade. With a beat of its massive wings, the roc soared skyward, releasing Safi from its grip and sending him plummeting to the unforgiving earth.

Karnos reached out telepathically to the rider but found only the fragmented shards of a shattered mind. Zahraan quickly gathered his equipment while Anvar activated his wand of haste on Fazanna. With renewed vigor, Fazanna entered her bladesong, retrieved her sword, and cast dimension door, teleporting herself and Shiv to the roc’s altitude. Shiv, filled with rage, lashed out at the rider with his wrist razors, slashing repeatedly before locking the rider in a grapple and striking once more.

Meanwhile, Shank played the role of an oblivious pilgrim, walking calmly amidst the chaos. The roc swooped down again, its beak claiming yet another pilgrim and the rider's sword dropping another in its fiery arc. Shank was seized in the roc’s talons and carried skyward, only to be dropped like a stone. As he fell, Karnos attempted to use his mindseize ability on the roc, but it failed. Zahraan acted swiftly, casting a veil of shadowy darkness, concealing several of the group from view.

Amid the chaos, Safi deciphered runes on the roc’s harness, finding them devoid of magic. Karnos unleashed a powerful psionic blast, stunning the roc and sending it crashing to the ground. It shook off the stun upon landing, but Zahraan capitalized on the moment, using Step of the Wind to bring Shank closer to the downed beast before striking it. Shank, however, failed to land his attacks. Fazanna hurled Shiv’s javelin of lightning but missed her mark, retreating into Zahraan’s darkness for cover.

Shiv rose from the ground, charging at the rider with unrelenting fury. His wrist razors struck true, felling the rider at last. Karnos activated his urgent violence ability, allowing both Shiv and Shank to strike at the roc as it attempted to flee. Bloodied and battered, the roc flapped its colossal wings, rising into the sky and retreating into the horizon. Shank loosed a few arrows in pursuit, but the monstrous creature escaped, leaving devastation in its wake.

Chapter 2: The Rider

The group worked feverishly to tend to the rider’s wounds, their efforts marked by urgency and unease. Through their combined skill and magic, they mended his broken body, yet the damage to his mind remained beyond their reach—a void they could neither touch nor heal. Stripping him of his armor, his fiery sword, and a curious collection of magical fruits, they left him behind, alive but locked in the silence of unconsciousness, a shadow of the menace he had once been.

Chapter 3: Rafernard's Forest

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group finally reached the end of their arduous journey. Before them stretched a vision of unparalleled beauty: a vast forest teeming with life, its trees a mix of the familiar and the legendary. The forest spanned several hundred yards, bordered by rolling grasses and bushes that extended half a mile in either direction.

The air was alive with birdsong, and a cool, fragrant breeze carried the scent of fresh blooms, a balm for their weary souls. The pilgrims, their faces weathered and sunburned, wandered toward the forest, joy etched into their expressions.

Suddenly, a rustling sound broke the stillness, followed by a burst of radiant light. From the treetops emerged a figure of ethereal majesty—a humanoid with luminous silver skin and delicate, gossamer wings that shimmered in the fading light. Hovering above them, the creature exuded an aura of profound serenity, and its melodic voice resonated like a gentle summer breeze:

“Welcome to the Forest Reborn, you poor, mere mortals! I am Rafernard, and I have created this impressive miracle you see before you.

Well done, worthy pilgrims, on surviving the grueling trek! Now, wander the woods at your leisure. Eat of the fruit of the trees, drink the cold, clean water. Follow the path to the right to find rest in the branches of the great trees.

Yet know this: much remains to be done. Our enemies seek to destroy this haven. Rest for now, for soon we must decide how to face these oppressors. The battle ahead will be difficult, but the prize—the reforestation of your land—is worth the struggle.

Once again, welcome! Eat and rest now. You are safe. Any questions you have may wait until tomorrow.”

With those final words, the avangion Rafernard vanished into the trees, leaving the weary travelers awestruck and bathed in a profound sense of hope and peace.

Chapter 4: Forest Entry

They stepped into the forest, where the air was rich with the scent of damp earth and the gentle rustle of leaves whispered promises of life renewed. Before them lay a path of smooth slate flagstones, worn by countless footsteps, branching north into the shadowy embrace of the woods and northeast toward a shimmering stream. The soft murmurs of pilgrims blended with the soothing babble of flowing water, creating a symphony of serenity. This, at last, was their entry point into the heart of the forest—a threshold to a place of wonder and untold possibility.

Chapter 5: The Pool

Before them stretched a tranquil pool, its crystal-clear waters glimmering like liquid glass under the dappled forest light. Fed by a hidden underground stream, the oasis radiated a pristine purity, its icy depths promising refreshment unlike any they had known. Pilgrims knelt along its edges, drinking deeply and immersing themselves in its cool embrace, their weary faces softened by relief. The serene atmosphere was magnetic, beckoning them to pause, to linger in this rare haven of peace and renewal.

Chapter 6: The Plaza

The forest opened into a grand circular plaza, its vast expanse measuring nearly 180 feet across. The air remained fragrant, imbued with a calming sweetness that seemed to linger in every breath.

The plaza’s stonework gleamed, a harmonious blend of white marble interspersed with obsidian tiles that created a mesmerizing contrast. Low benches encircled the space, inviting rest and reflection. Along the perimeter stood statues of elves and humans, their finely chiseled faces radiating wisdom and grace.

At the plaza's heart rose a pair of intertwined trees, sculpted from pinkish marble so exquisitely detailed that only their hue betrayed their artifice. Their branches merged at the top, forming a flat surface as if awaiting a celestial guest.

Birds fluttered among the statues, their cheerful songs blending with the serene ambiance, pecking at scattered seeds across the polished stone. Beneath the tranquil beauty, a quiet power pulsed, growing steadily, suffusing the plaza with an almost sacred stillness. Peace reigned here, undisturbed and profound.

Chapter 7: Resting Place

High in the embrace of the forest canopy, a cluster of wooden platforms swayed gently with the rhythm of the breeze, their rope ladders dangling like invitations to sanctuary. Each platform, spacious and sturdy, was adorned with soft blankets and plush pillows, exuding a warmth that beckoned the weary. Bowls brimming with fresh fruit and waterskins filled with cool, clean water awaited those in need of nourishment, a thoughtful offering of comfort.

Above, among the leafy boughs, pilgrims reclined in serene seclusion, their faces softened by relief as they savored the peace of these lofty retreats. The platforms, staggered ten feet apart, offered privacy and solace, sheltered by the dense foliage. Here, high above the trials of the journey, the world was quiet and still—a haven of rest cradled in the arms of the trees.

Chapter 8: Sloths

In a vibrant pocket of the forest, two Athasian sloths claimed dominion, their lair hidden among the verdant canopy. Despite their seemingly placid nature, these creatures exuded a primal ferocity, their razor-sharp claws and heightened senses making them vigilant protectors of their domain. The air grew heavy with tension as an unseen gaze followed every movement, a silent warning that this tranquil grove harbored peril.

Sensing the danger coiled within the shadows, the group exchanged wary glances and wisely chose to retreat, retracing their steps to avoid provoking the formidable guardians of the forest’s darker depths.

Chapter 9: Tree of Life

Towering before them stood a colossal tree, its vibrant canopy stretching 40 feet into the sky, a symbol of life’s defiant beauty amidst the wilderness. Encircling its base, however, was a menacing barrier of jagged, interwoven thorns, rising 10 feet high and forming a dense, unyielding wall 10 feet thick. The thorns seemed alive with malice, their wicked points gleaming in the dappled light, warning all who approached.

Chapter 10: Kirre Den

As the group entered a shaded grove, their eyes were drawn to a den nestled among the twisted branches and dry grass. There, two kirre lay in wait, their sleek, furred bodies a striking blend of deep browns and fiery reds, perfectly camouflaged against the foliage. Their sharp, intelligent eyes locked onto the group, calculating and wary, while their long, deadly claws twitched with barely-contained aggression.

A low growl rumbled from one of the creatures, its hackles raised, while the other shifted, revealing its formidable teeth, gleaming with lethal intent. It was clear that these fierce guardians would stop at nothing to protect their territory. Sensing the threat, the group wisely chose to retreat, silently backtracking, leaving the kirre to reign over their domain in peace.

Chapter 11: Back to the Plaza

After exploring the remaining paths through the forest, the group made their way back to the plaza. To their surprise, they found Rafernard perched upon the marble tree statues, engaged in conversation with several pilgrims. Her radiant form, as delicate as it was powerful, stood in stark contrast to the towering trees around her.

The group approached, eager to seek answers. They asked her, “Who opposes you?”

Rafernard’s gaze darkened momentarily, and her voice was filled with quiet fury. “Sorcerer-kings and their boot-licking templars, along with a few misguided souls. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them attempt another attack on my beautiful wood.”

Then, they asked, “Now that we’re here, what happens next?”

With a serene smile, she answered, “For now, rest. Refresh yourselves, and enjoy this moment of peace. In the coming days, there is much to be done, not only to ensure the survival of this forest, but to spread the green across all of Athas. But there will be time for that later.”

She paused, a light laugh escaping her lips as she added, “Rest from your journeys, O pilgrims, for you have earned your rest. Your frail little bodies must be so tired! Explore the woods as you wish. Partake of the water, the fruits, and the small game—though hunt only what you need.”

With that, her patience seemed to wear thin. She stretched her wings, and with a flutter, she lifted into the air. “I tire of your questions,” she said, her voice soft yet final. “I must rest.”

Without another word, Rafernard flew off to the north, her figure soon swallowed by the canopy, leaving the group in the silence of the forest.

Chapter 12: Not all is as it Seems

The group, still wary of Rafernard’s true intentions, ventured deeper into the forest, their unease growing with every step. As they moved through the dense foliage, they stumbled upon a patch of withered flowers, their once vibrant petals now desiccated and lifeless, as though the very essence of life had been drained from them.

Their attention was soon caught by the sight of a beautiful songbird, which landed gracefully on the head of a meditating pilgrim. The bird perched there, singing a soft melody, but before the group could fully appreciate the moment, a bird of prey swooped from the skies with terrifying speed, snatching the songbird in its claws. The pilgrim, however, did not stir—not a single flinch or reaction, as if the death of the bird meant nothing to him.

Further into the woods, they came across a pack of six feral halflings, attacking a large gourd with spears. The creatures treated it as though it were a vicious predator, stabbing it repeatedly before taking a bite out of it. Once they had done so, they would retreat to a safe distance, only to return and repeat the process once again. It was a bizarre sight, as though their minds were warped, the gourd now their only focus.

The party then found a few fragments of obsidian scattered about the ground. Those with knowledge of masonry could see that whatever had been carved from the sharp black stone had once been spherical in shape, though now only jagged remnants remained.

Their path next led them to a group of four kip attacking a z’tal. It was an unusual sight—kip, usually docile creatures, were known for their peaceful nature, but these ones were acting with aggressive intent, attacking the z’tal with savage fury. The group knew something was wrong, and their instincts screamed that this was behavior most unnatural for the kip.

Finally, they discovered a small pile of dead game animals, their skin drawn tight over their bony frames. The creatures’ bodies were shriveled, as though all life had been drained from them, leaving nothing but empty, hollow shells behind. The scene was chilling, and the sense of something deeply sinister at work became impossible to ignore.

Chapter 13: Return to the Tree of Life

The group made their way back to the imposing Tree of Life, its presence both magnificent and foreboding. Shiv, driven by impatience, tried to force his way through the thorny barrier surrounding the tree. But despite his efforts, the thorns resisted, scratching and tearing at him as he made no progress. Fazanna, following close behind, attempted the same. She managed to push forward a mere two feet before the sharp spikes raked across her skin, forcing her to retreat in pain.

It was Shank who found a different way. With a flash of arcane power, he activated his magical boots of jumping, soaring over the thorny hedge with a single leap. The air around him buzzed with the unmistakable ping of magic, and though he landed on the other side, he couldn't resist the urge to leap back, setting off the magical resonance once more.

Safi, not to be outdone, grabbed her nomadic slingshot and used it to propel herself forward, intent on speaking to the ancient tree. Shank followed her, once again activating his boots, and the magic pinged anew, marking their passage. Safi attempted to commune with the tree through Speak with Plants, but her connection brought little revelation. The tree was ancient, yet the forest around it was new. It viewed Rafernard as a benevolent god, a figure of great importance and power.

Frustrated and uneasy, the group backtracked to the spot where they had previously found the withered flowers. Karnos, focusing his psionic abilities, reached out with his mind, but discovered no defiler present when the plants had wilted. Safi also searched for any trace of defiling magic, but her efforts yielded nothing.

Their frustration grew as they made a brief stop at the plaza, hoping to find Rafernard. The area, however, was empty, and their patience had worn thin. In a fit of exasperation, Shank began shouting Rafernand’s name, his voice echoing through the trees, but there was no response, only the eerie silence of the forest. Undeterred, they pressed on, their suspicions about the true nature of their surroundings deepening with every unanswered call.

Chapter 14: Now What?

Unsure of their next move, the group returned to the sloths, hoping for some sort of insight. Safi, with quiet determination, attempted to communicate with the creatures using his druidic powers. However, the connection was fleeting and unwelcoming—he could only sense their irritation, a deep displeasure at their intrusion. The sloths, it seemed, wished nothing more than to be left alone, their patience thin as the group lingered too long.

Shiv, ever the one to act on his frustrations, contemplated ending the creatures' lives, but his companions quickly intervened, stopping him before he could carry out the thought. With little else to gain from the encounter, they decided to return to their resting place, their resolve hardening to try again the following day.

The night passed without incident at first. The group set watches, each taking their turn under the thick canopy of trees. However, as the final watch drew near, Shiv, weary from the day's events, was lulled into a deep slumber, his senses dulled by the quiet of the night. The others failed to notice the subtle shift in the air, the creeping presence of danger.

Suddenly, they were awoken by the sharp, dissonant sounds of an ambush. Gith—tall, menacing figures—emerged from the shadows, their eyes cold and calculating. The group was caught off guard, the peaceful night shattered in an instant. The ambush was swift, the gith attacking with a precision that only added to the overwhelming sense of dread. It was clear the night would not pass quietly.

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