Phealafarian Frontiers: 09: Grimroot Woods
Venturing into the Grimroot Woods, the party found the darkness far deeper than mere tree cover. Their torches and lanterns barely pierced the oppressive gloom, their flames flickering unnaturally as if the air itself sought to snuff them out. The party exchanged uneasy glances, adjusting their grips on their weapons, every step forward taken with caution. Even the most battle-hardened among them could not shake the feeling that they were being watched from just beyond the edges of their vision. The air hung heavy with an eerie stillness, the only sounds the crunch of dead leaves underfoot and the distant rustling of unseen creatures. The deeper they pressed, the more unnatural the shadows felt, swallowing the meager daylight filtering through the canopy above. A chilling whisper of wind moved through the trees, though the leaves above barely stirred. Something was wrong here.
As they moved cautiously, Tosk spotted a strange creature darting behind a stump—only for a skeletal chicken to leap out! He stepped forward, hunger in his eyes, only to be met with an ambush of three more skeletal chicks. One landed a vicious peck to his shin, the sharp bone slicing into his skin. With a mixture of confusion and amusement, the party dispatched the undead poultry with ease. Before they could recover, a skeletal goat barreled toward them, its empty eye sockets glowing faintly. Thomas met the charge head-on, his blade flashing as he cut the creature down with a single precise strike. Despite their victory, the presence of these skeletal animals left them uneasy—why were they here, and what force had animated them?
Scattered throughout the forest, the party discovered abandoned crates, some broken open and spilling their random assortment of contents. Some appeared old and weathered, their wood softened by time and exposure, while others seemed recently disturbed, the splintered edges fresh as if pried open in a hurry. Though odd, none of the goods seemed particularly valuable, leaving them to wonder who had left them behind—and why. Were these remnants of past travelers, or had something—or someone—been here before them, scavenging in the shadows? An unsettling thought crept into their minds: if these crates had been used by previous travelers, where were those people now?
Their exploration led them to a strange white stone archway standing alone in the woods, untouched by moss or decay. It felt eerily familiar to Guardian, though he could not say why. Without a word, Thomas stepped forward, drawn to it by some unseen force. But before he could reach it, Tobias grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. Thomas’ eye flashed white, and suddenly, a voice not his own echoed from his lips:
“I am sorry (sorry)… I tried to keep it out (out)… But I couldn’t close the portal in time (time)… Part of it came through (through).”
When asked its name, the voice replied, “My name is (static)… My name is lost (lost)… But you will know me in time (time).”
Just as suddenly, Thomas’ eye returned to normal, and he blinked in confusion, seemingly unaware of what had just transpired. A heavy silence fell over the party. The weight of what they had just witnessed settled over them, unanswered questions clawing at their minds.
As the group attempted to process the event, movement in the underbrush caught their attention. A skeletal dog lurked nearby, watching them. Attempting to sneak up on it, Tobias misstepped, snapping a twig beneath his boot. The creature whipped around at the sound and lunged at them. Erisa and Eldrin swiftly reacted, cutting it down before it could do any harm. As they examined its remains, they discovered a rusted metal tag among its bones—its name was Sparky.
Another skeletal dog attacked soon after, this one bearing a tag that read Kelsa. The pattern was unsettling. What had happened to these creatures? Why did their bones still roam the forest? And, perhaps more unsettling, what had happened to their owners?
Seeking an escape from the accursed woods, the party pressed onward, but the labyrinthine forest seemed to have a will of its own. Fog rolled in unnaturally fast, shrouding their surroundings. Attempting to leave, they walked through the mist—only to find themselves back at the entrance. Confused but undeterred, they turned around to try again. Instead of returning to their last location, they inexplicably found themselves back at the village. Something was playing tricks on them, warping the very paths they walked. Frustration and unease crept into their minds as they retraced their steps, only to find themselves right back where they started. Erisa clenched her fists, muttering a curse under her breath, while Tobias’ jaw tightened, his grip on his axe firming with every wrong turn. “This place isn’t just confusing,” Guardian murmured. “It’s intentional. Something doesn’t want us leaving.” The realization sent a shiver through the group, their determination hardening as they steeled themselves to push forward, no matter how many times the forest turned them around.
Determined to push forward, they ventured once more into the heart of the forest. There, they encountered another skeletal dog, but this one was different. It did not snarl or attack. Tosk and Tobias cautiously approached, and to their surprise, it allowed them to pet it. Unlike the others, this one seemed calm, its presence unsettling yet oddly familiar. A sense of recognition flickered through the group, though none could quite place why. Tobias frowned, his fingers hesitating over the name tag as a strange memory tickled the edges of his mind. “Bruiser… Why does that name feel important?” he muttered. The others exchanged uneasy glances, their thoughts mirroring his own. Had they heard this name before? Or was it simply the weight of the eerie encounter making it feel significant? Whatever the case, something about the skeletal hound lingered in their minds, refusing to fade like the others. Around its bony neck hung a tag reading Bruiser. Tobias knelt beside it, gently placing a hand on its skull as he tried to communicate, but the dog simply tilted its head, as though struggling to comprehend. A quiet sadness hung in the air, as though the creature itself knew it had been forgotten.
Eventually, the party discovered a map tucked inside one of the abandoned crates, its faded ink depicting a winding path leading through the tangled woods. Following its guidance, they navigated through the maze-like forest, finally emerging into a clearing. The air was still, the oppressive weight of the forest momentarily lifting.
At its center stood a massive white stone, stark against the dark soil and gnarled roots that surrounded it. The sight of it sent a shiver through Thomas. As his gaze locked onto the monolithic fragment, his knees buckled, and he fell forward, his voice barely a whisper.
“It’s part of the egg!”
