Session #13 as told by Inez
Dear diary,
This day has ended well, I would say; we’ve escaped from the strange greenhouse, the cubs are back and Jonathan found a new friend. However we’re still on the run. Not to mention my part in this all. Hopefully a full night rest will help. But first, let me tell you all.
All my inner thoughts about my smoldering victim and the responsibilities that should come with great arcane power were swept away the moment the two freed gnomes started talking and thanking us. They introduced themselves as Chana and Vana and spoke incredibly fast and incoherently. Perhaps the exhaustion, hunger and fears caused by being kept prisoner for three weeks was the cause of this: “Yes, it was weeks, two at a minimum, wasn't it, Vana? Yes, perhaps even four or five, Tsjanna. We were caught by the big tree!” They talked amongst themselves like they were birds, twittering short sentences, responding and ignoring us at the same time.
And their stories and behaviour were curious not to say suspicious. No explanation about their whereabouts or how they were captured by the tree. No interest in who we were or how we had come to find them. Just a minimal set of ‘thank you’s’ before they started negotiating. All in all it was enough to get under our skin. In the case of the halflings in such a way that they neglected their asking for food and drinks. As a fellow gnome I just had to give in, providing them with some water.
As a gnome I felt sympathy for the two and was happy to meet kinsfolk. Nevertheless even for or especially for a gnome, their behaviour was off! Not giving any information of their ancestry nor provenance, what would be the first topic gnomes would jump on! Admittedly I also was not very keen on giving information on my origins, for obvious reasons. Which could mean that they too had a history of shady businesses. Good point, dear diary, ‘Crooked cogs count crooked clicks’, I’m in no position to judge people stating false facts about themselves.
What really did strike me as odd was their strange dealings about us having to buy or brew flasks of potions. In the far corner of the greenhouse a table was standing with on top filled bottles, vials and other supplies and equipment to prepare elixirs and lotions. Next to it was a large cauldron on a stand, heated by a small fire like there had not just been a fight to the death in the same room. It reminded me of the kitchen at home, where no matter what was happening in the solicitor’s office a few doors away, the staff would quietly work along. My two new gnomish friends were requesting us to either purchase stuff with a discount granted to us for saving them.
However their strange duologue was as twitching and ensnarling as the branches of the tree monster had been, and Finn was getting more frustrated and agitated with them. They even managed to provoke Jonothan by threatening Gregot. Intervening I made a point to the halflings that after being held captive the gnomes did not care much about tree-men, and towards Chana and Vana that Gregot was our friend and helper. Not making much of an impression and the two gnomes backtracked towards the other corner, whispering amongst themselves.
The halflings started to survey the table and came up with a book ‘The herbalist cookbook’. Finn handed it over to me, despite the protest of our two friends. It was gnomish, though I was not familiar with it. The name of the author, Burble Quickthistle, did ring a bell all the same.. He was an infamous forest gnome with a volatile career in medicine, sometimes hailed as saviour, even more times on the run accused of maltreatment. Not a gnome that was thought of highly by my parents. So, my curiosity was triggered instantly, dear diary. And just like a cat, it would cost me.
As suggested and persisted by Vana I looked up the recipe for the golden potion, a healing and energizing vaccine. Reading the ingredients list, I instructed Jonathan to find and harvest the components of the concoction. At that moment Finn grabbed Chana and placed his knife on the throat of the gnome! “What are you doing?”; I shrieked. “These are no gnomes at all! How could a gnome survive weeks without food? What are you, tell us, or else!”; the rogue exclaimed. “There’s no need for any of this. Please release me!” ; the gnome did not seem to be impressed at all by the rogue or his knife. “Please instruct your friend to let go.”; he addressed me, but I saw the burning in Finn’s eyes. He was on to something and I decided to trust him instead of fellow gnomes.
Abruptly the stalemate was broken, just as I tried to intervene. Fast and agile as a Feywild Adder the gnome slipped out of Finn’s lock, grabbed his knife wielding arm and made him drop it to the floor! “This is very unpleasant behavior! The only thing we want is to sell our products, offering a bargain. And this is what we get in return. "Inexcusable!" And with that both gnomes disappeared in a blur. And once more the door felt shut on its own, trapping us once more!
Not coming up with a better idea, I decided to continue trying to brew the potion with Jonathan. Asking Finn to cover our backs in case the gnomes would come back.The cookbook was not really clear on things, a picture book presenting each step as a black and white figure instead of a precise law article or spell description. Regardless the priest and I were coming along fine, Jonathan had found the four flowers and five leaves that were required, crushing the latter in a mortar like the Nook-famous halfling cook Pippa Goodbarrel. That good priest Jonathan should have started a temple of Brandobaris instead of running off with a gnomish Sheela Peryroyl, dear diary.
Despite the cooking starting off rather nice, it went astray as soon as we dropped the first flower into the boiling liquid. The water adopted the red color, subsequently turning into pink, phosphorescent and splashing, a cloud of red lifting off. “Next one”; I said, pointing out the purple flower on the table. The moment Jonathan dropped it in, a gulf of blueish water gushed out, engulfing the poor halfling! Snorting and puffing he tried to get the liquid off his clothes and body. “Are you okay?”; was all I could come up with. “In a bit, but is this really what’s written in the book? And perhaps there’s a handkerchief lying about?”; Jonathan inquired. “If she was your solicitor, just after you would be acquitted, she would insist on reading the article of law to the judge and have you quartered!”; Sitting on one of the tables, cleaning his nails with a knife, Finn was heckling away at us. Ignoring him with a grim smile, I started looking for something that could protect my poor assistant, but there was nothing to be found amongst all the strange apparatus lying on the table.
“Al right, perhaps I should add the next one myself?”; I said to Jonathan, pushing him aside. With the black flower in my hand, I approached the cauldron full of confidence. Dropping the floret in as graciously as possible. My pompousness could not have been out of place, dear diary... The next thing I remember is sitting with my back against the stump of the dead tree, literally blown away and landed there. With pain in my chest and head, holding on to a page of the book. The rest of the remains of the cooking book were lying around, smouldering pages and smoking piles of ash, some of it floating around. “Are you all right, Inez?”; both halfling men rushed over, Finn himself now also carried black watermarks all over him. And once more I was happy that his god and him were always willing to help the stupid and careless, healing me once more. And once more all I could add was a as gracious as possible ‘thank you’, dear diary. While the cauldron’s boom was still ringing in my ear and I could not help thinking: “After I almost killed him, he comes back to heal me. What was wrong with me? Was I more dangerous than the fey?"
“Can I have a look at the recipe?”; Jonathan then formally requested and I could not find a lot of arguments why I should have kept it at that point. With the page in his hand he walked over to the cauldron and started reciting the inscription. The letters of the four words were illuming what made the reading more easy, but the wording was all wrong: “GbkPoh Olplli Lauedt Dcrgwe”. In spite of that Finn and I tried it as well, to no avail. To all our surprises, including himself, Jonathan came up with the solution. Taking the words apart, the correct colors and order of the flowers was revealed. In combination with the instructions on the remaining page of the book, the full recipe was now available.
Once more we started working on brewing potions. And this time Finn took the honors, claiming his cooking skills were top level amongst the three of us anyways. The pesky Halfling! This time no explosion took place, instead after each flower dropped in, a gracious change of color took place. After the last white flower was added, golden glare and steam was spreading from the gauntlet. And Finn just had to show off, blowing bubbles and clouds of gold in my direction. Which I obviously pretended not to notice, dear diary.
On the table we found two sealable flasks that we filled with the golden potion, simmering in the cauldron. More usable bottles seemed not to be available, Finn therefore emptied a chalice filled with a blue liquid on the ground, leaving a blue gelly. As if it was a normal thing to do, he then filled it up with our brewage. With each holding one potion, still some more on the bottom of the kettle, we discussed what to do next. With no evident way out, the two goblins still in the equation, I took the initiative to call them out: “Chana and Vana, we want you to come out again. We want to trade our golden potion, in exchange for a safe retreat and a reward!”
From there it all went astray. Both gnomes did show up again, and negotiations started. But as we tried to make sense of their propositions, fallacies and shady deals, the atmosphere grew more intense. Confabulating between themselves, then twisting our words and offers, gnomes don’t haggle like that! They turned out to be worse than the halfling mobsters at my fathers office. Dead sure these had the decency just to show their knives or brass knuckles, stating intent. Here clouds of phrases and expressions were blocking any sight of reason, your own words twisted into unreasonable offers. At some point Jonathan and Finn were so fed up, that they drank their golden potions instead of permitting the gnomes to access it. Apparently quality was varying, to Finn it boosted his energies, poor Jonathan once again it only brought suffering. The gnomes were seriously annoyed, so to the halflings it had been worth the price.
Then I made the mistake of backing up a deal that Finn already had paid for, just to get away from this couple. Without having to fight them; not only was I out of arcane energies, but the thought of having to fight and injure gnomes was haunting me! Accepting a big loss, and still those forest gnomes were not satisfied, we made it to the exit. Definitely paid too much, trading the golden potion for probably worthless red and transparent potions, and on top of it all: The door was still locked! Not having any more of it, Finn managed using some oils from his thieving kit to light up the door. After this maltreatment, the old gate permitted enough way through for us small folks to get out. Somehow we had made it, but once more it had not been a triumphal procession. Only Jonathan seemed happy, carrying Gregot back to our camp.
At least when we arrived back at the campsite, a pleasant surprise was waiting: The three cubs were hopping around, greeting us happily! Squatting down I hugged the critters, who had somehow found us back beyond Mag. Which reminded me, we had to get away from that city, and by looking at the sun it was clear we already had lost precious time. “We need to get moving, dear halflings!”; I addressed my companions. “What about some meal first?”; was the predictable reply. And not only the halflings needed nourishment, the poor little tree-creature Gregot was also making this clear in its own special way, hanging its leaves. “What does a tree eat?”; Jonathan was asking me, certainly a topic not addressed in my proper education. “Water? Perhaps you can give it some water?” Accepting that suggestion the priest filled his hands with water to sprinkle it on Gregot; instead the little tree jumped up, landing on the palms of Jonathan’s hands, settling in the small pool of water there: “Gregot!”. Notably, someone in our company was fulfilled and content.
The sound of swishing leaves around us made my spine shiver again. Seeing Finn taking cover on the far side of the field did not help improve my mood either. Jonathan was still holding Gregot, so I decided to stay with him, sheltering on my knees between the Owl Bear cubs. As the sounds grew stronger, two jackall-headed-humanoids stepped out of the bushes. Fortunately for us they appeared to have no real interest in us, as their claws and beaks suggested that a fight would have turned out very one sided. With no greeting or signal, other than the strange whispery sounds coming out of the bushes around us, the creatures left, leaving us tense but relieved. And wondering in what way, if any, these passers-by were related to Chana and Vana.
So finally we appeared to be ready to embark, all three of us wanting to leave the last days episodes behind us (Well, I certainly did, dear diary!). No time to lose, as the whole episode underground could mean the citizens of Mag, or the mob they sent after us on their behalf, would catch us. And certainly no time to lose to further planning, discussing or challenging the leadership and deeds of a certain gnomish lady, dear diary!
But there was a challenge, only a small one though. Where Jonathan and I had heard nothing but whispers, Finn had received detailed instructions where to find a large treasure. Hidden just a little detour away from the road to Mag and Magki, how convenient, was a large collection of the best cheeses! For a little while I mistook this as a halfling attempt at a gnomish joke, but he was entirely serious! And could only with false assurances and promises be persuaded to postpone his quest and join us. As my mother would have said: “Use your looks to gild a lie and your smile to outshine the truth.”
With the last of our energies we put some more distance between us and Ki. For onlookers it must have been a strange parade, two halfling men, a gnome woman, three Owl Bear cubs and a small walking bush, quietly making their way through fields and woods. Finally finding a resting spot providing a bit of cover.
And that’s where I’m sitting in my tent now, dear diary. Tired, very tired, without dinner, which is a lot harder for my companions than for me, and praying for some sleep. So, till next time.